Listening for the Waves
by wildcat7898
Summary: When Saavik helps Spock and Uhura move into their new home on Vulcan, she finds that their lives may not be the only ones changing. This story follows "The Most Forgiven" in my S/U Trekiverse.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Listening for the Waves

Author: Wildcat

Series: TOS

Rating: M

Codes: Saavik, S/U

Summary: When Saavik helps Spock and Uhura move into their new home on Vulcan, she finds that their lives may not be the only ones changing.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Spock, Uhura, and company. I have just borrowed them for a while and will not profit from any of this.

This story is part of my Spock/Uhura universe. It takes place between The Most Forgiven and Bright Shining as the Sun.

As always, thanks to my wonderful beta reader, Jungle Kitty.

This story won 2nd place for "Best S/U" in the 2000 Golden O Awards.

Feedback is desired.

Listening for the Waves, chapter 1

Shifting her parcel to the other arm, Saavik paused to watch a young man weave a patterned cloth. The movement caused a small bundle of flowers to wiggle at the top of her bag, and she experienced some discomfort over her conspicuous frivolity. When she had seen the bright blossoms in the market, she had envisioned Nyota's pleasure and added them to her otherwise practical purchase of fruit and bread, but now she wondered if she had been overly impulsive.

The man stopped to choose a new thread, and Saavik nodded appreciatively before resuming her leisurely progress. The day had turned out to be mild-by Vulcan standards-so when Nyota commented that they had very little food in the house, Saavik had volunteered to venture out for supplies. Of course, Spock and Nyota were busy moving into their new home so she would have done anything she could to help, but she could not deny that she was very pleased to have been given the opportunity to explore the old portion of the city.

Perusing the open shops that lined the walkway, she decided that she would have to return with Spock and Nyota before she left Vulcan. Spock had explained that this area was known to be eclectic, but that was an incredible understatement. In the eighteen minutes it had taken her to locate the produce market, she had seen dignified antiques and gaudy tourist baubles, ethnic restaurants and open-air markets, artists, musicians, merchants, Deltans, Tellarites, Andorians, humans, Vulcans, and even an ancient Orion who lurked in the doorway of his shop, daring an unwary customer to venture in.

It was all quite fascinating.

She paused at a branch in the walkway, looking curiously down a path that would lead deeper into the heart of the Old Town. A group of Vulcans passed, and when an older man nodded at her in the dignified manner of one Vulcan respectfully greeting another, she had to make a conscious effort to smoothly respond in kind. A Vulcan, on Vulcan, seeing another Vulcan when he looked at her! It was one thing for humans and other non-Vulcan beings to assume she was Vulcan, but it was entirely another for a Vulcan to assume she was Vulcan. Surely her every movement branded her as a fake, someone who pretended to be something she wasn't, someone who worked every minute of every day to deny the Romulan blood that coursed through her veins. She had managed to fool yet one more person, and as always, she did not know whether to feel excited, relieved, guilty, or all three.

Finally, she threw one last glance over her shoulder at the quiet group of Vulcans, then turned back in the direction of modern ShiKahr. She had dallied long enough. The walk back to the house was not a particularly long one, but no doubt the others were growing hungry.

As she passed through the crumbling gate that had once kept the desert out of the original town, she reflected on the immediate contrast between life inside the walls and life out here. Although no one could ever describe a Vulcan city as bustling, there was certainly a high level of activity in the Old Town. Stepping into the neighborhoods that stretched between old ShiKahr and new was like going from one world to another. These neighborhoods were so serene, so spacious... The old city had grown within its existing walls for two thousand years, and when people had finally ventured outside, they had rejoiced in their unconstrained freedom. The houses here were not particularly big, for it would be illogical to build a big home when a modest home would do, and the yards were not particularly large, since generally one would avoid being outdoors, but the houses were not built on top of one another as in the Old Town, either.

She caught movement from the corner of her eye and saw that it was a group of running children. They did not make a sound-Vulcan children were never loud-but it was clear that they were enjoying themselves as they raced between the houses and vanished. What might it have been like to live such a relaxed childhood? She had certainly developed the strength and coordination that was encouraged by their game, but she had accomplished it in a very different way. She did not experience any resentment over their good fortune, however. As a matter of fact, it merely strengthened her resolve that someday, if she ever produced children of her own, their lives would be no less free from concern.

Rounding the corner, she saw the house ahead. Although she was not entirely certain that her opinion was objective, she thought that the house seemed to stand out from the surrounding homes. It was not impressive or imposing, so perhaps her perception was due to the porch tucked off to the side, or maybe it was fostered by the low brick wall that surrounded the front yard. Or could it be that her eye was caught by the vividly flowering cactus the previous owners had imported from Earth? At any rate, this house was very different from all of the others. She could see why Nyota had known immediately that this was the one she wanted, the perfect place to find a fresh beginning after the death of Admiral Kirk and the disbanding of his senior crew.

As she neared, Saavik noticed that Spock was working in the front yard. He appeared to be... digging.

"Greetings, Spock."

He stopped, resting his hand on a shovel as he turned in her direction. She could see small flecks of sand on his normally immaculate tunic, and the dry, dusty scent of freshly turned soil wafted from five neat holes that were lined up across the front of the house.

"Greetings, Saavik. Were you able to locate the market without difficulty?"

"Yes. Your directions were very precise." She tilted her head. "What are you doing?"

He looked over at a group of small shrubs that leaned against the wall, their roots bound in rough cloth. She was certain that she heard a heavy sigh as he rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand.

"Nyota decided that the front of the house requires landscaping. Therefore, I am planting these bushes. It is unlikely that they will survive, but she thought it 'worth a try.'"

"But why are you using such a crude tool? Would you not prefer to use a portable transporter?"

"We do not possess a portable transporter, and evidently it was crucial that these bushes be planted immediately." He glanced toward the house. "I am quickly coming to the realization that Nyota did not actually relinquish her chance to command when she resigned her commission last month. Of course, she does not have the crew of a starship to oversee, but apparently a crew of one-"

He stopped speaking at the sound of a voice from the open window.

"Spock? Could you come here for a minute and help me move this sofa again? I don't like it so close to the window. And did I hear Saavik out there? Would you ask her if she'd mind fixing us some lunch?"

Meeting his eyes, Saavik could see his resigned amusement.

He continued. "Correction. Apparently, a crew of _two_ is better than no crew at all."

She nodded, so he placed the shovel beside the unplanted shrubs, and together they went into the house.

End chapter 1


	2. Chapter 2

Listening for the Waves, chapter 2

Uhura unbuttoned her shirt and reached for a hanger. Instead of putting the shirt in its place, though, she paused to look around the closet. She'd had a walk-in closet as a girl, but it was nothing like this. And after so many years of living on starships or in economical apartments, this was incredible. She could even put a comfortable chair in that nook by the window.

She looked up as Spock walked into the closet.

"Isn't this wonderful?" She spread her arms, marveling over the fact that she could turn around and not touch anything. "This closet is almost as big as my first quarters on board the Enterprise."

He nodded as he began opening the front of his tunic. "Although I know you are exaggerating, I agree that this is a luxury one would not often find in a Vulcan home. Clearly the previous owners remodeled it to suit themselves. I am pleased that you like it."

"Oh, I do. I love it. I love this house! The Vulcan elements make it so much more practical than what you'd typically find on Earth, yet it has touches like this closet and the bathtub."

He winced when he bent to remove his boots.

Hanging the shirt on the rod, she asked, "What is it?"

He straightened with his hand on his lower back. "It is nothing. I merely overexerted myself today."

"I didn't work you that hard, did I?"

He lifted an eyebrow without comment.

"Maybe I had you rearrange the den a few times-"

"Eight."

"Eight?" This time, it was her turn to wince. "Really? I'm sorry, Spock. No wonder you're sore." She crossed the closet and pushed his hand out of the way. "Is this where it hurts?"

"It is nothing."

"I don't believe you. Let me take a look." She began to rub his back. "Boy, you're tight as a drum. Here. Does this help?"

He made a small sound in his throat as he nodded, so she smiled and ran her other arm around him for leverage. She had intended to concentrate on the knot in the small of his back, but the feel of his wiry chest under her other hand was too distracting. Unable to resist, she moved closer.

Pitching her voice low, she asked, "And how's this?"

"Very satisfactory."

Her motions gradually became less brisk, and finally she dipped just her fingertips under the waistband of his pants and slid them around his side until her hand was flat against his abdomen. Both arms around him now, she pressed herself against his back. There was nothing between their upper bodies but the lace of her bra.

Her cheek resting against his back, she inhaled his warm scent. "Mmmm. Spock?"

"Yes?"

"I think that we need to christen this house."

"In what way?"

Moving her hand lower, she kissed a delicate line across his shoulder blade. "Guess."

He inhaled sharply. "Saavik is just down the hall."

She wriggled her hand until she had worked it all the way down the front of his pants, then grinned at what she found. He might say that he didn't want to do this, but his body didn't agree with his words.

"The bedroom door is closed. If we shut the closet door, she'd never hear us." Figuring that a little extra emphasis wouldn't hurt, she rubbed his leg with her calf. "We'll be quiet."

He swallowed and murmured, "I cannot deny that your argument is persuasive."

"I'll close the door."

She moved to the other side of the closet and shut the door, and when she turned back, she saw that he was just stepping out of his trousers. A moment later, his underwear followed.

"In a hurry?"

"As I said, your argument was very persuasive."

She chuckled. "It certainly persuaded me."

Unfastening her bra, she tossed it to the floor. When she reached for the front of her pants, however, he stepped close and grasped her fingers.

"Allow me," he said.

She shifted her hands to his upper arms when he pulled her to him by the waistband of her pants. She thought that he was going to kiss her, but instead, he bent his head to her collarbone. His lips were gentle as he traced a line from there to her breast, and when he slowly dropped to his knees, she gasped at the sensation of his mouth on her belly.

Without diverting his attention from her navel, he opened her pants and slid his hands inside, easing them down her thighs. Next, he tugged on her underpants, pushing both down until she could easily step out of them. She shivered, her skin bereft of warmth as his kisses evaporated in the dry Vulcan air.

Unable to stand up any longer, she sank to her knees and wrapped her arms around him, meeting his lips in a deep, lazy kiss. She entwined her fingers in his hair as he ran his strong hands across her back, and when he gently eased her backwards, she did not resist.

She pulled him to her, and soon they were moving together with the rhythm of familiar lovers, each knowing how the other wished to set the pace. Although the carpet was soft against her back, she felt her skin begin to grow warm as his thrusts pushed her against the tiny fibers. The added stimulus didn't distract her, however, somehow only serving to heighten her senses.

His breathing grew harsh in her ear, and she tightened her hold on him, closing her eyes and arching her body in response. She wanted nothing more than to moan encouragements, but she bit her lip and forced herself to remain quiet.

"Nyota..."

She was surprised to hear him call out her name, but she decided that the effort of staying silent was too much for her, too.

"Oh, yes. Spock..." she panted.

"Nyota," he repeated with more urgency.

Louder herself, she said, "Yes. Oh yes, Spock."

"Nyota."

"Spock! Yes!" she cried.

"Nyota!"

Finally, it penetrated her enthusiasm that he didn't sound so much aroused as pained. He'd stopped moving, too. She opened her eyes.

"Spock?"

"My back," he said in a choked voice.

She drew back to see that his face was contorted in pain. "What's the matter? Does it hurt?"

"Yes." His shoulders stiff, he put a hand on his lower back. "I do not know what happened, but it is very painful."

"Can you move?"

"I... do not know..."

"Okay. Hang on."

Disengaging herself carefully, she grasped his upper arms and pushed him away. Her heart was already leaping into her throat, but it pounded even harder when she saw him roll onto his back and grimace with the effort of stretching out his legs.

Leaning over him, she asked, "Do your legs hurt, too?"

He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them very wide. "It is mostly confined to my back, but there is some pain shooting down my right leg as well."

"We need to get you to a doctor."

She gathered his clothes and helped him wrestle them back on. It wasn't easy-every movement clearly caused him pain-but finally he was dressed. She took a moment to pull on her own clothing, then helped him struggle to his feet.

Soon, they were making their way slowly toward the flitter parked at the side of the house.

...

Lying on his back in the emergency ward, Spock attempted to study his surroundings without aggravating his injury. They were in a moderately sized area, and although he could hear activity surrounding him, he could not really see anything more than the ceiling. Of course, his field of vision was limited by his posture, but he realized that he had begun to experience some difficulty focusing his eyes. His mental processes had grown increasingly blurry, as well. No doubt it was an effect of the muscle relaxant injected by the medic upon their arrival. He certainly could not deny that he now felt rather relaxed. Although he had not been pleased to receive such a strong drug, he did not object to the fact that the pain had faded into nothing more than mild discomfort.

He looked over at the woman who occupied the next bed, her foot elevated and wrapped in a cold gelpack.

"I do not understand how you did not see that hole."

She regarded him with a hostile expression. "And I don't understand why there wasn't a bush in that hole."

"I was too busy moving furniture to complete that task."

She held his eyes for a long moment before looking heavenward. "I'm sorry. It's just that I'm frustrated because I know that I really messed up my ankle. We're both going to be laid up for a day or two. There's so much to be done! How are we going to manage, Spock?"

Extending his arm with some effort, he reached across the distance between the two beds and brushed her wrist with his fingertips.

"It can wait, Nyota. I know that you are eager to transform our new house into a home, but a few more days will not matter."

She grasped his fingers. "You're right. It'll wait."

"Nyota Uhura and Spock?"

He retracted his arm quickly at the sound of a masculine voice, and craned his neck to see that it came from an approaching doctor.

Fascinating.

When he looked back at Nyota, he saw that she was amused by his reaction to having been caught holding her hand. Her expression of amusement was quickly replaced, however, by surprise. Their doctor was very young, very sturdily built... and very human.

Spock nodded. "Yes. I am Spock, and this is my wife, Nyota Uhura."

The doctor smiled and deposited his stylus behind his ear, where it nestled securely in his wiry red hair. "I'm Dr. Johnson. I understand you both suffered mishaps this evening."

Nyota shrugged. "You might say that it wasn't our night."

"Well, let's see what we have here." Dr. Johnson pulled a scanner from his pocket and gently encouraged Spock to roll onto his side, facing Nyota. "Could you tell me how you did this?"

Having already considered how he might describe what had happened, Spock glanced at Nyota, expecting to share his awkwardness with her. He found that she was not looking at him at all. Instead, she was studying the doctor with great interest. Perhaps she was intrigued by the young man's Earth dialect, a more animated version of Dr. McCoy's drawl.

Spock decided to assume that the doctor did not require more than the most rudimentary details. "The sharp pain I experienced was preceded by discomfort, so I believe that this can be attributed to the fact that I rearranged a great deal of furniture today. I also performed some landscaping without the proper equipment."

The doctor turned off the scanner. "You were working in the yard at this time of night?"

"No. I was engaged in, ah, a different form of physical activity when this actually occurred."

"Say no more." The doctor grinned. "You have a prolapsed disk. I'd say that you did the damage earlier with your heavy lifting, but the disk didn't actually rupture until tonight. I see from your chart that you also experienced sharp pain in one of your legs. This is due to the pressure of the ruptured disk on the sciatic nerve. The injury also caused muscle spasms in your back, which exacerbated the pain, which increased the muscle spasms, and so on."

"That would explain the muscle relaxant I was given upon arrival. I stated that I preferred to control the pain, but the medic was insistent."

"Yes. Vulcans are notorious about wanting to control the pain in this situation, but we don't want there to be any pain to control."

"Will he need surgery?" asked Nyota.

"Yes, but it's a minor procedure and we perform it on an outpatient basis. A little time in a healing trance, and he'll be back at home resting-and I mean resting, not working in the yard or moving furniture or doing anything else that might aggravate his injury-by the morning." The doctor moved over to Nyota's side. "So, don't tell me that you hurt your ankle the same way he hurt his back."

Nyota chuckled. "No, I'm afraid that it wasn't nearly as fun."

Obviously not expecting her comment, the doctor threw his head back and laughed uninhibitedly. Spock looked in her direction, prepared to indicate his displeasure at her off-color humor, but she favored the doctor with such a brilliant smile that he kept his opinion to himself.

Dr. Johnson was still trying to stifle his laughter while he unwrapped the gel pack. "Tell me about it."

"Spock was already in the car when I realized that I had left my credit chit in the house. So, I ran back to get it. I was in too much of a hurry, and I didn't watch where I was going. I stepped in a hole in the front yard." She studied the doctor. "Are you from Earth?"

"Yes." He gently rotated her foot. "Does it hurt when I do this?"

"Ouch. Yes. Where?"

He looked up, puzzled, then said, "Oh. You're asking where I'm from. I grew up on an island off the Atlantic coast of North America."

"Really? I spent some time at Ocean City when I was young. Is it close to there?"

"No, no. Much further south. A little place called Fripp Island, off the coast of South Carolina." He turned on his scanner. "Did you hear your ankle pop when you stepped in the hole?"

"Yes. It was loud. What brought you to Vulcan?"

Spock frowned. Although he had learned long ago that it was considered acceptable for humans to ask personal questions of one another, Nyota seemed to be taking it to an extreme.

"I had just finished my residency when I learned that the ShiKahr hospital was looking for a couple of human doctors. It seemed like an ideal opportunity, so I jumped at it. Here I am."

"That's a big change. How did your family feel about it?"

Spock began to wonder if Nyota had a purpose to this relentless questioning.

"My parents thought it was a great opportunity."

"What about your wife? Girlfriend?"

He met her eyes and smiled. "No wife. No girlfriend."

"Oh, really? An attractive young man like you? That's surprising."

Ah. Spock began to understand. He was not certain he approved.

"Oh, no, not really. I'm too busy for a personal life. And I'm not alone here. An old friend from home who is also a doctor signed on with me." He turned off the scanner. "Well, you've really done a number on your ankle. You tore the ligaments in two places, and I see signs of an old injury that didn't heal well. Have you hurt this ankle before?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so. I try not to make it a habit to step in holes, but I did the same thing on vacation a few years ago. We were in Greece. With a friend."

She paused to bite her lip, and Spock could tell from her expression exactly what she had in mind. Before he was able to catch her eye in an attempt to discourage her, she smiled pleasantly and continued.

"You know, that friend is sitting out in the waiting room right now. I think that I'd like her to hear what you have to say. Do you mind if she comes in here with us?"

"Of course not. Would you like for me to call her?"

Spock tried to interject. "Nyota-"

She shushed him with a glance. "Of course, Doctor. Her name is Saavik. She's Vulcan. Very pretty, with curly dark hair. I'd say that you're, oh, about the same age as her."

"Well, if she's pretty, I'd say that we definitely need to bring her in here." The doctor grinned and left the room.

"Nyota."

She looked innocently in Spock's direction.

He lowered his voice. "Do you think that this is wise? Saavik will not appreciate your attempt to meddle in her life."

"Who's meddling? If she's going to be helping us over the next few days, she needs to know about our injuries." She darted a glance toward the door. "Shhh. Here they come."

Accepting that he had been outmaneuvered, Spock settled his head back onto the pillow and listened to the doctor recount his diagnosis for Saavik.

End chapter 2


	3. Chapter 3

Listening for the Waves, chapter 3

The next morning, Saavik guided a crate onto the dining table and opened the top. Nyota had expressed the desire for a strong cup of real coffee, but Saavik had unpacked five of the ten antigrav crates labeled 'kitchen' and still not found the coffee maker. Apparently it was not in this crate, either. She carefully removed a large serving dish, eight plates, and a sugar bowl, and carried them into the kitchen.

When she came back out, Nyota looked up from where she sat in the main living area with her foot propped on the sofa table. "Still no luck?"

"No. There are five crates remaining." She wandered from the dining area into the living area. "Surely it is in one of them."

"Don't worry about it. It'll turn up."

"I do not mind, Nyota. It will not take me long to unpack the remainder of the kitchen supplies."

"Okay." Nyota smiled, then bent to look at the man lying supine on the floor beside her with his eyes closed and his hands folded across his chest. "Do you suppose that he's still alive?"

Peering over the sofa table, Saavik saw that Spock didn't react to the teasing comment. He did appear unnaturally still. Perhaps he was still groggy from the medications the doctor had given him, or perhaps he was merely ignoring them. At any rate, he had been told to remain flat on his back on a hard surface, so he had settled himself between the sofa table and the sofa as soon as they had returned in the early hours of the morning. He had not budged since. It seemed a rather odd choice of location, but then again, it was out of the way, and he was assured that no one might accidentally step on him.

She decided to cooperate with Nyota's joke. "Do you wish for me to pinch him so that we will know?"

"Nah. He's already mad enough at me as it is for making him work too hard yesterday."

They both watched for a response but none was forthcoming. Uhura shrugged, so Saavik moved back to the dining area and opened another crate.

The sunlight streamed through the front window, illuminating the flowers she had purchased in the market yesterday. It was unfortunate that neither Spock nor Nyota could rise and enjoy the day, for it promised to be another mild one. As she lifted a large platter from the crate, however, she realized that the two of them would have many opportunities to appreciate just such a day. They did not have to return to a starship as she did. She would not trade her experience in Starfleet for anything, but what would it be like to know that one could feel sunlight on one's face every single day? Or to rise on some other planet where one knew that one could feel grass under one's feet, or smell the sharp, musky odor of a shady woods, or hear the rushing of the ocean...

If she could choose any planet-bound life, _that_ would be the life she would choose. She would rise every morning to walk on the beach, and she would stand in the water until the sand covered her feet. She would study the small creatures that scurried away from the tide, and she would search for a specimen of every shell that existed in that ocean. The doctor she met last night had said that he collected driftwood as a child, and she found it amazing that he had come from a planet on which trees and water were so plentiful they combined to create something new. He had described driftwood as nature's art. She actually had difficulty envisioning it, but it seemed like something she would wish to collect, too.

Surprisingly, he had been a very pleasant person with whom to speak. Although she would normally be uncomfortable in the face of such exuberance, she found that he was not overbearing as people like that so often were. Perhaps that was because of his relaxed upbringing. He had said that he roamed freely as a child, and from the expression on his face, she gathered that this was a good thing. She would have liked to hear more of his stories about growing up on a beach, but he was very busy and could not talk for long. And that was just as well. She was still somewhat uncertain about his enthusiastic personality, and she could probably learn all she wanted to know by performing a library search on the places 'South Carolina' and 'Fripp Island.'

Digging to the bottom of the crate, she uncovered the coffee maker.

"Nyota, I found it."

"Terrific! I put the coffee in the-" She looked up sharply at a signal from the door. "Now who could that be?"

Not opening his eyes, Spock said, "I sincerely hope that it is not my parents."

Saavik walked across the room and opened the door, and she knew that she was unsuccessful in maintaining a neutral expression when she saw who it was.

"Dr. Johnson! Greetings. I did not expect to see you."

"Hello, Saavik. I just happened to be in the neighborhood, and I thought I'd check on my patients. May I come in?"

"Of course."

Watching as he crossed the room, she gathered by the huge smile on Nyota's face that Nyota had also found him a pleasant person with whom to talk.

"Good morning, Doctor." Nyota flexed her foot a tiny bit. "As you can see, I'm doing much better. Saavik is taking good care of me."

"Wonderful." He knelt and ran his hands over her ankle. "The swelling is down. You should be up and around by tomorrow as long as you're careful."

"Believe me, I'll be very careful. And there aren't any holes lurking in the front yard anymore, because Saavik planted our bushes first thing this morning."

"It sounds like Saavik has been busy." Dr. Johnson glanced over his shoulder and smiled at her, then leaned toward Spock. "You look comfortable."

"I assume that you are being facetious," replied Spock.

"Yes. Sorry. Couldn't resist."

Saavik watched him produce a small scanner from his pocket, and she was impressed that he would actually come by the house to check on Spock and Nyota. Such dedication was admirable, especially considering that the lines of fatigue on his face indicated that he must have just finished his shift at the hospital.

He turned off the scanner with a nod. "Very good. Stay like this for a while longer, but if you can sit without discomfort by, say, suppertime, go ahead and get up. I recommend that you sleep like this tonight, but after that, if you faithfully do those exercises I showed you, you should be able to go back to a normal routine."

"That is indeed welcome news, Doctor. Thank you."

The doctor stood. She expected him to move toward the door, but instead he met her eyes, his self-assurance appearing to waver. She frowned, uncertain about his hesitation, but Nyota spoke before she could question him.

"You know, Doctor, Saavik had just come across my coffee maker and we were going to fire it up. Why don't you stay for a cup? It's real coffee made with a real coffee maker, both from Earth."

From his position on the floor, Spock said, "Dr. Johnson has clearly been up all night. No doubt he wishes to go home."

"Then I'll bet he'd welcome a good cup of coffee," said Nyota.

The doctor shook his head. "Oh, I'd hate to be a bother."

"Nyota, do not pressure him." Spock prodded her healthy foot. "Perhaps the caffeine would interfere with his sleep."

Nyota ignored him. "No bother at all. Right, Saavik?"

"Ah..." Saavik looked from Nyota to the doctor to Spock.

The doctor grinned and turned to Saavik. "Well, if you insist, I'd love a cup of coffee."

Saavik raised an eyebrow at the satisfied grin Nyota aimed in Spock's direction. "Very well. Spock, would you care for any?"

"No thank you, Saavikam."

Walking toward the kitchen, she heard the rustling of cushions as the doctor settled into a chair near Nyota. When she reached into the cabinet for the coffee, however, she heard Nyota tell Dr. Johnson that he would be much more comfortable at the dining table. While Saavik would normally disagree with that statement, the den _was_ in disarray at the moment. Only a few crates remained in the dining area. Perhaps Nyota thought that he would prefer the controlled clutter in the dining area to the chaos in the den.

She activated the coffee maker and soon carried two steaming cups and the sugar bowl toward the dining table. As she approached, she saw that Dr. Johnson was studying the flowers in the vase.

Looking up at her, he touched the petals lightly with his fingers. "Black-eyed Susans. They were everywhere when I was growing up, but I haven't seen one since I came to Vulcan. Where did you find them?"

She placed a cup on the table and delivered the other to Nyota, who smiled in appreciation before helping herself to the sugar. As Saavik returned to the kitchen for her own coffee, she said, "In the Old Town. I walked there yesterday for supplies. I apologize that I did not think to purchase cream for the coffee."

"No problem. I'll just use a little extra sugar and it will be great."

Seating herself, Saavik tried not to grimace. She had only recently understood that her aversion to coffee was due to the sugar humans insisted on heaping into their cups. When consumed plain, it was actually quite good. The thought that one would add even more sugar was very unappealing.

The doctor appeared to like it, because he sighed in appreciation after he took the first sip. "I can't believe you found black-eyed Susans in Old ShiKahr. I've never seen them there."

"Do you go there often? It appeared to be a fascinating place, but I did not have time to explore."

"Oh, it is. I love the Old Town, and like all the humans around here, I go there every chance I get. There's a little Andorian restaurant down one of the back alleys that's terrific. It's run by this big extended family, and I eat there so often I think they've adopted me."

"Excuse me for asking, but are you not legally an adult? It was my understanding that if a human's parents are deceased but the human is of a certain age-"

He laughed. "Sorry. I was being imprecise. I just meant that they've welcomed me as if I'm one of their own."

"Ah. I see. Please continue, Dr. Johnson. I wish to hear more about this Andorian restaurant."

"Please, call me Zach."

"Zach?"

"Zachary. Zach for short."

"Very well. Please continue, Zachary."

He leaned forward. "They're a great bunch. Just last week, they were celebrating the eldest grandson's 'Rasichim'-what they call it when a child reaches marriageable age-and they invited me to sing with them. I think that I embarrassed my roommate, but I had a good time."

"They did not also 'adopt' your roommate?"

"Oh, they did, but he's just a little more reserved than I am. They can be pretty rowdy, and they learned long ago that he's much happier when he's allowed to participate from the sidelines. I've known him all my life, and he's always been like that. He doesn't want to draw attention to himself." He chuckled. "I guess that no one would say that about me."

They paused to sip their beverage, so Saavik took this opportunity to peek over the rim of her cup and study her companion. If one were to consider only his height and build, she thought that he would be classified as rather average. What set him apart from other humans she had known was his coloring. Granted, the majority of the humans with whom she had come in contact throughout the years were members of a limited subset-Starfleet-but she assumed that no regulation existed to prohibit people with vivid red hair and freckles from the service. Therefore, she thought it safe to assume that those traits were relatively rare among humans. They were certainly arresting. Although she knew that he was probably considered attractive by human standards, she found that she could not stop staring at his hair long enough to determine what she thought of the rest of him.

Dropping her eyes when she realized that he was looking at her, she asked, "Are there other locations of interest in the Old Town?"

"Many. There's a small open-air theater down near the old temple where they reenact the Enlightenment of Surak. Sometimes visiting troupes do other plays, too. There's even an ice cream stand next to the gardens, the only place I know of on this entire planet where you can get ice cream. The gardens are incredible. You probably already know this, but the settlement of ShiKahr was once nothing more than a group of nomads around an oasis. Through the years, that oasis has been nurtured until you could almost call the gardens lush, or at least lush by Vulcan standards. It's all incredible. I never get tired of going there."

"I did not have time to explore when I was there, but I knew that there was much to be seen. Perhaps Spock and Nyota will recover sufficiently to show me around before I leave."

He smiled, but before he could continue, he stifled a yawn.

Grinning apologetically, he said, "I'm sorry. I guess that I'm starting to sink a little. It was a long night."

"No apologies are necessary. Thank you for stopping here on your way home. It is reassuring to know that Spock and Nyota are under such conscientious care."

"I was glad to do it." He stood. "Guess I'd better be going. Thank you for the coffee."

Saavik followed him to the next room and watched as he said his farewells to Spock and Nyota. He was really quite considerate, even going so far as to ask if there was anything else he could do for them before he left. Of course, she knew that he was merely being polite, for it was clear that Spock and Nyota were both greatly improved. Nevertheless, they expressed their appreciation, and soon the doctor was walking down the front walk to his flitter. She caught another glimpse of shockingly red hair, and he was gone.

She returned to the dining area and guided another crate onto the table. After she opened it, however, she could not help but pause to study the flowers. Black-eyed Susans, he had said. And they grew everywhere.

Fascinating.

She removed a set of stacked bowls and carried them into the kitchen.

End chapter 3


	4. Chapter 4

Listening for the Waves, chapter 4

Uhura put the flatware onto two plates, picked them up, and walked gingerly into the kitchen. Her ankle was hardly even tender, but she remembered how much it had hurt last night when she sprained it, and she couldn't bring herself to put all her weight on it yet.

Smiling at the man who leaned into the open stasis unit, she asked, "What are you doing?"

"I am rearranging."

"Hmmm. The condiments weren't lined up on the right-hand side of the second shelf, in sequence from the tallest to the shortest? The bread wasn't squarely in the corner of the-"

She was glad to see that he straightened easily, if a little slowly.

"You may tease me, but if I do not do this, you will complain tomorrow morning when the jelly is not where you expect it."

"That's because you've trained me so well." She turned to Saavik, who stood at the recycler. "You see, Saavik? This is what happens when you've been together as long as we have. Predictability."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Nyota, the only thing that is predictable about you is your unpredictability."

"Me? Saavik, is that true?"

"I am staying out of this discussion."

Spock nodded. "Wise."

A signal from the other room interrupted further banter, and Uhura watched as Saavik left the kitchen to answer the door.

Inspecting a container, Spock said, "Orian spice sauce. I have never had this before. Saavik must have purchased it yester-"

Uhura grabbed his elbow. "Shhh."

"Why?"

"If this is who I think it is, I want to hear."

"If you wish to listen, you should go out there."

"Spock! Please."

"Very well."

They both stood quietly as Saavik answered the door. When she heard voices from the other room, Uhura squeezed Spock's arm and whispered, "I knew it! It's Zach."

"You are on a first name basis with him now?"

"Shhh." She waited a moment. "He has a few hours before his shift begins at the hospital, and he's volunteering to show her around the Old Town."

"This may surprise you, but I can hear him, too."

She grinned. "I guess you can, at that. Oh, quick. Act busy. Here they come."

An instant later, Saavik stepped into the kitchen with Zach at her shoulder. Ignoring the look on Spock's face, Uhura feigned surprise.

"Dr. Johnson! How good to see you again."

"It's good to see you, and that you're up and around."

"We're almost as good as new, thanks to you."

"Dr. Johnson has graciously offered to give me a tour of Old ShiKahr," said Saavik. I do not wish to leave you with all of the after-dinner chores, so allow me to quickly-"

"Oh, this? It's nothing" Uhura nonchalantly shoved a plate into the recycler. "Go ahead, and we'll take care of it. Won't we, Spock?"

"Of course. Go, Saavikam."

Saavik hesitated, then nodded. "I will be back later."

Uhura managed to retain her innocent expression until Saavik and Zach had said their goodbyes and walked out the door. The instant they were gone, she turned back to Spock.

"This is so exciting! I knew as soon as I met him that he would be a good match for her. I'm sure they'll have a great time tonight. She has over two more weeks here, plenty of time-"

Spock held up a hand. "Before you plan their wedding, perhaps you should consider the fact that he is merely doing this because he does not want us to do it. He is our doctor, and the exertion of walking might delay our recovery."

She put her hands on her hips. "Do you really believe that?"

Frowning, he said, "It is possible."

She studied him, then placed a gentle hand on the side of his face. "You're thinking about how badly she was hurt when that idiot Bryce betrayed her in Greece, aren't you?"

"It has crossed my mind."

"And you're right to remember that. It's risky to let someone into your life. But there's so much to gain, Spock. You and I struggled with that, but in the end, things worked out beautifully for us. Didn't they?"

He nodded, so she continued.

"I'll admit that I've been interfering a little, but I think that things will work out for her, too. I'm not planning her wedding. I don't even know if she'll find anything worth pursuing with Zach. But I do know that he won't hurt her. I can tell."

"How can you tell?"

"I just can."

"That is a rather imprecise statement."

She chuckled, then patted him on the cheek before turning back to the dishes. After a moment, he joined her, and they worked together in silence until the kitchen was clean.

...

"See that little shop with the vegetable carts out front? That's the best place around for buying Terran produce. Their prices are high, but it's worth it. And over there..."

The sun had begun to set as Saavik clasped her hands behind her back and listened to Zachary's running commentary. She had learned that humans tended to say things they did not mean, often employing hyperbole or figures of speech, but he had clearly been serious when he said that he knew much about this area. He had literally not stopped vocalizing since they walked through the gate. She did not mind, however. This was much more interesting than walking by herself and wondering what everything was.

"...and down that way is the Andorian restaurant I told you about, only one of many good restaurants around town. I found another place I'd recommend last week. It's owned by a Vulcan couple who just moved back from Earth. Interesting food. Kind of a cross between Szechuan and Vulcan."

"Indeed? I will have to tell Spock and Nyota. They have always been partial to Chinese food. They will want to try it."

"What type of food do you like, Saavik? I'll bet that you can find it here somewhere."

She noticed that they were approaching a group of benches around a small metallic sculpture. "Would you mind if we sat down, Zachary? I have enjoyed the tour, but I believe that I would like to watch the surrounding activity for a short period."

"Sure. That's a good idea."

Saavik made herself comfortable, then turned to the man beside her. "You had asked what type of food I prefer. That is a difficult question, for as long as the food is nutritious, it is illogical to seek out one cuisine over another."

"It doesn't seem illogical to me. Don't you ever get cravings? Dream of some particular dish when you know that nothing else will do? Maybe when you're alone, you indulge yourself, and you feel guilty afterwards because it's the most non-nutritious, bad-for-you food that exists."

"No."

"C'mon. What about ice cream? I know you've spent time on Earth. Everyone likes ice cream."

"It is very sweet, is it not?"

"What?" He stared at her. "You don't know?"

"It is not something that has ever sounded appealing, frozen dairy products combined with sugar and other odd flavorings."

He shook his head, and although he appeared sad, she could tell he was merely feigning sorrow. "You poor, deprived child. There's nothing better than a big scoop of Rocky Road. Unless it's two scoops."

She wrinkled her nose. "Rocky Road? I definitely do not wish to consume that."

Laughing, he said, "That's just a name. It's really very good."

She regarded him skeptically. "If you insist."

"Well, I think that we need to remedy this. Come with me."

Rising, he grasped her wrist and tugged her from the bench. Although she knew that his strength was no match for her own, she allowed him to do so, but she dragged her feet when he tried to lead her away at a fast pace.

"Zachary, truly, I do not wish to eat ice cream."

"C'mon. You'll like it. I promise."

"I am certain that it is much too sweet, and I do not care for sweet foods."

"But it's so good! You won't be able to believe what you've been missing."

She stopped, and he pulled up with a jerk. "No, Zachary. Thank you, but no."

"Uh, okay. I'm sorry. I guess sometimes I get a little too enthusiastic. If you'd rather not try it, that's fine. It's only ice cream. It doesn't matter."

She studied his face, and she could see that she had hurt his feelings.

"Indian," she said softly.

"What?"

"That is the type of food I prefer. Terran food from India, the spicier the better."

A slow grin spread across his face. "There's a terrific Indian restaurant here. It's a little place, and the food is so hot it's been known to put mere mortals in the hospital."

"That sounds like just the sort of place that I would like."

He held her gaze, still smiling. "What are you doing in two nights?"

She felt an answering smile form in her eyes. "I believe that I am going to be consuming Indian food."

"You bet." He sighed. "Well, I guess I need to take you home. We probably didn't have time for ice cream, anyway. But it sure is good after spicy food."

She raised an eyebrow, and they started back toward the town's main gate.

End chapter 4


	5. Chapter 5

Listening for the Waves, chapter 5

Bringing in the flitter for a landing beside their new home, Spock experienced a sense of contentment. He was pleased with everything he had seen this morning at the Vulcan Science Academy. The physics lab was virtually new, and the academics staff consisted of some of the brightest minds in education today. They had asked him to lead the physics department, and the position was a good fit with his education and experience. In addition, if he were to admit it, it also suited his preferences. He had always been partial to research and teaching, and this job would allow both in addition to utilizing the administrative skills he had developed in Starfleet. He was also pleased by the thought of working at the same institution as Nyota, although as the future Dean of Communications and Linguistics, her path would seldom cross his. She would be working as a professor for eight months until the current dean retired, but even as a teacher she would spend the majority of her time on the other side of campus.

He had just exited the flitter when the front door opened and Saavik stepped out with Dr. Johnson. Spock halted, surprised. She had gone out to eat at an Indian restaurant with the doctor just last night, and they were already back together this morning? He had not seen her after her date, and he had left this morning before anyone else arose, but it seemed somewhat extreme that she would agree to see the doctor again so soon. Of course, the alternative-that they had not parted last night-was something he did not wish to contemplate.

"Greetings, Saavikam. Dr. Johnson."

"Greetings, Spock." Saavik approached him. "Nyota told me that your appointment with the VSA was this morning."

"Yes. I toured the facilities and found them quite impressive."

"Does that mean that you will accept their offer?"

"Yes. I have not given them an answer yet, but I shall do so this afternoon."

He paused to consider the fact that he would very much like to ask what she and Dr. Johnson planned to do today. She had not offered any information yet, and he did not wish to overstep his boundaries, but finally he allowed curiosity to win out over propriety.

Taking care to keep his voice casual, he asked, "Are you on your way to Old Shikahr again?"

Dr. Johnson nodded. "I promised Saavik that I'd show her the gardens today. There's always something interesting to see, and it's another great day for being outdoors. I figured that we'd better enjoy this while it lasts. Another couple of weeks, and I'll be treating half the humans on Vulcan for overexposure."

"We are fortunate that the mild season this year has been even more temperate than usual," said Spock. "I will not keep you. Enjoy yourselves."

"Thanks."

They turned away, and Spock raised an eyebrow when he saw the doctor steer Saavik toward the sidewalk with a light touch of his fingertips on her arm.

Nyota greeted him when he walked through the door.

"Hi, Spock. I thought I heard you arrive. How did it go?"

"Very well. I intend to accept the position."

"That's wonderful! When do you think you might start?"

"I have not discussed it with them, but like you, I would prefer to wait until Saavik is gone. Our visit with her is too short as it is."

She grinned, and he tilted his head as he regarded her.

"Do you find something amusing?"

"Yup. You didn't say it, but I heard it: Our visit with her is too short as it is, especially considering that someone else is monopolizing her time."

"That statement is illogical. She has only gone out with Dr. Johnson three times. That hardly constitutes a monopoly."

"I'm glad you see it that way..."

He allowed satisfaction to register when he realized that Nyota had not contradicted his assumption that this was Saavik's third date with the doctor.

"...because I wasn't talking so much about the past few days as I was about the next two weeks," she continued. "She hasn't said anything, but I can tell by looking at the two of them that this is just the beginning."

He frowned. "I see."

"I told you that they'd be perfect for each other!" she crowed. "Well, back to my unpacking."

She walked away, leaving him alone in the front room. He looked out the window, but Saavik and Dr. Johnson were no longer in sight.

Just the beginning?

He sighed. Saavik was thirty, still very young by Vulcan standards but more than old enough to form romantic liaisons. Why was he so disturbed by this development? As Nyota had pointed out, there was no reason to expect the doctor to hurt her. Perhaps it was because she appeared to be rushing into this at an accelerated pace. Perhaps it was because the doctor was undoubtedly much more experienced at these matters. Perhaps it was because her imminent departure from Vulcan doomed her budding relationship to unwieldy complications or even a premature end. Perhaps it was because there were so many parallels between this situation and her unfortunate, short-lived romance in Greece.

Or could it be that he found it hard to accept that she was no longer a child? Illogical, but...

He remembered their days on Dantria, when his concerns centered around convincing her to wear shoes and not to bring insects into the house. Throughout that year, he had explained repeatedly why it was not a good idea to disappear into the woods at any hour of the day or night, and why crude language was considered unacceptable in refined company. He had answered endless questions and participated in never-resolved controversies that taxed even the patience of a Vulcan. When she had awakened upset in the wee hours of the morning, he had countered her laments that she would never be a "real" Vulcan like him, and he had wrestled with the knowledge that she would eventually have to learn about her heritage and all the unpleasantness that implied.

It had all been so easy then.

She was an adult, and while both children and adults must be allowed to make their own mistakes, it seemed that there was much more at stake now. A broken limb was easy to mend. A broken heart was not. All he could do was watch, however. Although this helpless inactivity was the most difficult of all, it would not do to interfere. At any rate, she was very intelligent and sensible. She would surely choose the correct course of action.

He turned away from the window. He could hear Nyota unpacking in the master bedroom, and it was time for him to become busy, too.

...

"Do you miss Earth, Zachary?"

Saavik glanced over at her companion as they made their way toward the gardens.

"Oh, sometimes I miss home, but I don't miss Earth, if you know what I mean."

She did not, but she assumed that it was simply because she had never known what it was like to have one place she could call 'home.' She allowed him to continue.

"When Michael and I first moved here, I won't deny that it was a big adjustment. We came during the hottest time of the year, and we thought that because we'd grown up in a warm climate, we knew what it was like to be hot. So that was a problem until we realized that we were going to have to make allowances for it. We were also caught off guard by culture shock." He chuckled. "You know, you think that you're very cosmopolitan and that nothing in the universe will faze you, and then you come to a planet where everything is different: customs, social mores, the shops, the restaurants, even the way people drive. I had an especially hard time getting along with the, uh, more reserved doctors in the ER."

"You mean the Vulcan doctors."

"Yes, sorry. No offense."

Falling easily into the deceit that she was as Vulcan as those doctors in the emergency room, she replied, "None taken."

"Anyway, I finally figured out that their behavior didn't mean they disliked me. I made a lot of mistakes saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, but eventually I learned how to act properly." He grinned and shook his head. "Or maybe they just learned how to look the other way at my gaffes."

"So you are accustomed to life here now?"

"Very. The other doctors respect me. I've learned my way around. I know how to avoid heatstroke. And maybe one of the best things was discovering the Old Town. It's good to go to a familiar spot where I can relax and be myself." He gestured at his surroundings. "Although this isn't exactly like Earth, it's close enough. And it's unique on all of Vulcan."

"Spock told me that it was originally preserved as a testament to Vulcan's harsh past, but instead it has become a mecca for off-worlders who have turned it into a tourist attraction." She allowed the corner of her mouth to turn up. "No offense."

He laughed. "None taken."

"It sounds as if you have adapted well to life on Vulcan. Do you ever return to Earth to visit?"

He shook his head. "Although I think my mother's about ready to kill me, we're too busy and-to be honest-having too much fun. We went back last summer when Michael's big brother got married, and that's been it."

"You mentioned that you have known him for many years. Are you good friends?"

"We've been inseparable for as long as I can remember. As a matter of fact, people used to call us the twins, which is really funny because we couldn't be more different. When we learned that there were two positions open here, there was never any question that we'd do this together."

"He must be a very nice person."

"He is. You'd like him. As a matter of fact, maybe you'll get to meet him today. He said something about having a date, and I'm sure he'll bring her here." He grinned and met her eyes. "This is our favorite date place."

"Then I am not surprised that you know this area so well, since I am certain you have many dates."

He threw his head back and laughed, and she was fascinated by his uninhibited reaction. Except for Nyota, she had never known a human who laughed so easily, and even Nyota was rarely this boisterous.

He was still laughing when their attention was drawn by a small crowd standing nearby.

"Zachary, what do you think they are watching?"

"Let's go see."

They headed toward the crowd and saw a woman sitting at a potter's wheel. Zachary stepped back to make room for Saavik in front of him, and they gathered close to watch. She could feel his breath brush against the back of her neck as she shaded her eyes against the sun.

"That's incredible." His voice vibrated behind her. "When we walked up, she was holding a lump of clay, and it already looks like a bowl."

"She is very skilled."

They stood in silence. She heard him shift as he moved minutely closer. He was only a small amount taller than her, and she knew that he was trying to see around her curls.

The potter dipped her fingers in a small bowl of water and coaxed the edge of the bowl into a graceful curve.

He leaned yet closer. "Look at her shop window. You can see some of the items she's completed."

She shifted her gaze to the front of the shop and was struck by an idea. "Humans have a custom called 'house warming,' do they not?"

"They sure do."

"Follow me."

Winding her way through the small crowd, she entered the shop and addressed a man who stood behind the counter.

"I would like to purchase a bowl of the same design as the one she is making right now. Do you have anything like that?"

"Yes, we do." He pointed toward a shelf in the corner. "Over there."

She moved in that direction, then bent close to the shelf to study the three bowls that were on display. Each was unique, but she still recognized the design from the potter's wheel. Two were brown and one was a deep blue that she knew Nyota favored. Before she could examine the blue one more closely, however, Zachary spoke from where he stood near a low shelf in the middle of the room.

"Saavik, look at this."

Turning, she saw that he pointed to a vibrant yellow vase. When she looked closer, however, she saw that it was not precisely yellow. It had brown undertones, perhaps, or gold, and reminded her of something she could not quite place.

He grinned as he lifted it gently from the shelf. "It's the same color as the flowers that were sitting on your dining room table."

"It is perfect." She could not keep the awe from her voice. "This is the perfect gift for Nyota."

She met his eyes, and she felt something warm... something vague and indeterminate... tighten her chest as she was reminded of how she had met his eyes last night. She had looked up in appreciation at the first taste of her meal and found him watching her, wordlessly watching her as if he were fascinated by her every move. She knew that her own eyes had widened, but she had been unable to hold his gaze. She had quickly found something of interest on her plate, and she had known even as she speared the next bite that he still watched. Something about him made her uncomfortable, and she found that it was not entirely an objectionable sensation.

She took the vase and carried it to the man behind the counter, who wrapped it and placed it in a bag. Soon, they were on their way again. The sun was warm on their backs, and as she walked beside Zachary with her purchase swinging from her hand, she could not resist looking over at his face.

His ever-present smile widened. He did not speak, and they walked quietly as the subdued noises of the town surrounded them. Although there were as many off-worlders in this area as natives, it seemed an unwritten rule that no one could be loud on Vulcan. Even the non-Vulcan children who ran and played were not as raucous as she might have expected, and there seemed to be an air of restfulness despite all the activity.

Glancing ahead, she realized that they were approaching what must be the garden. Instead of heading for the sidewalk that meandered through the dusty flowerbeds, he veered toward a small plaza that bordered a cluster of tables. She finally broke their silence.

"Where are you going?"

"You'll see. Wait here."

She moved to the shade of an ancient, gnarled tree at the side of the plaza and watched him walk up to a small cart and purchase something. When he returned, she saw what he had.

"Ice cream," she deduced.

"Correct. You refused to do this last night, so I took the bull by the horns and got some anyway. This is vanilla, just for you. There's nothing here you can object to, no chocolate chips or nuts or cherries or marshmallows or gooey stuff. See, I'll try it first."

Taking a bite from the edge, he closed his eyes and made a humming sound.

"Mmm, boy. That's good. Your turn."

She studied the ice cream he waved under her nose. "You are very persistent."

"That's right, and if you don't try it, I'm going to keep pestering you."

"Very well. You have worn me down. I will try it."

Resting her hand on his, she brought the ice cream to her mouth and gingerly took a small bite. Her first observation was that it was cold, as she had expected, but an instant later the cold dissolved into a smooth creaminess on her tongue. It was very sweet, which she had also expected, but actually not unbearably so.

She looked up to see him watching her expectantly. "It is acceptable," she said.

"Acceptable?" His voice was soft, and he was very close.

"Agreeable."

"C'mon, Saavik. You can do better than that."

"I would eat it again."

He smiled. "I guess I'm going to have to settle for that. You, uh, have a little bit on your lip, right there."

She stood still as he gently brushed the corner of her mouth. Instead of removing his hand once the ice cream was gone, however, he softly ran his fingers to the middle of her lower lip, then down to her chin. She gazed into his eyes, and the next thing she knew, he bent close and pressed his lips to hers. He kissed her, right there, in the midst of the people and the shops and the flowers, with the sun dappling the ground at her feet and a non-native songbird calling incongruously from the branches over her head.

He drew back, and she saw that his smile, big only a moment before, was now very small and gentle. She could feel her heart pounding in her side, and she did not know what to do next. Finally, she realized that her hand was still draped over his where he held the ice cream, and she curled her fingers as she pulled her arm back toward her chest.

His smile broadened again. "Let's go find a place to sit."

Unable to form a vocal response, she nodded, so they started down the path that led into the park.

...

Long shadows were creeping across the walkways when they finally turned back toward home. Saavik knew that Zachary would not have time to sleep before his shift, but he did not seem to care. As a matter of fact, he had mentioned earlier that he was sufficiently well-rested from his day off yesterday to bypass sleeping today. He had also said that even if he were not rested, his high spirits would carry him through the night. Although the concept was illogical, Saavik understood exactly what he meant.

They had just walked through the gate when Zachary called out, "Hey, Michael!"

She looked up to see a stream of people exiting one of the shuttles that ran continuously from various portions of ShiKahr. The evening's activities were just beginning here, and she knew that the business people and families who were waiting to leave would soon be supplanted by groups of off-worlders, drawn by the variety of restaurants and nightlife in the Old Town.

Zachary waved, and when a young man detached himself from the crowd with an attractive young human in tow, Saavik saw what Zachary had meant when he said that he and Michael were very different. The man who approached was unusually tall for a human, slender where Zachary was stocky, dark-skinned where Zachary was fair.

"Hi, Zach. Are you just leaving?"

"Yeah, gotta get to work." Zachary rested his fingers in the middle of Saavik's back and drew her forward. "Michael, Karen, this is Saavik. Saavik, this is my old buddy Michael Watkins and his date, Karen McCall. Karen works in patient affairs at the hospital."

Saavik nodded politely. "Greetings. It is good to meet you."

"Likewise. Did you enjoy your day?"

"Yes, very much. Zachary is a good guide."

Zachary smiled, and as he began an animated description of the afternoon's activities, Saavik studied his friend. Michael was indeed reserved, just as Zachary had said, but he did not seem to be shy or socially awkward. Instead, he listened to Zachary's commentary with a glint in his eye, his subdued, warm laughter a pleasing balance to Zachary's more ebullient reactions. His voice was richer and more restrained than Zachary's, too, but the two men sounded remarkably similar, both speaking with a flowing cadence that had probably been ingrained from the time of their youth.

Soon, the conversation ended, and she and Zachary said their goodbyes and left the Old City.

End chapter 5


	6. Chapter 6

Listening for the Waves, chapter 6

"Yeah!"

"All right!"

From her position on the middle of the sofa, Saavik cradled her beverage and watched the men on either side jump out of their seats. She had never devoted much attention to Terran baseball before, but these were the playoffs, and it pleased Zachary that she came over to watch. So, over the past week, she had learned all about balls and strikes and runs and force-outs. She had even learned that the runners were allowed to cheat by going to the next base even when they were not supposed to. It had surprised her to learn that she could develop an appreciation for this very old sport, but what she found even more interesting than the game were her two co-spectators.

Zachary reached over and slapped Michael's hand before resuming his position on the sofa.

"Man, what a hit." Zachary leaned close to Saavik. "Did you see that? I'll bet that ball was on fire."

She raised an eyebrow. "I was not aware that such a thing was possible."

Michael chuckled. "It's not, or at least not on Earth. I think it's possible in the Klingon version of the game."

She studied him. "You are making a joke."

"Uh." Michael grinned crookedly. "Yes."

She nodded and turned back to the tri-vee. "What is happening now? That man appears very unhappy."

"That's the manager. He's going to talk to the pitcher." Zachary came to his feet and started toward the kitchen. "Anyone want another beer? Snacks?"

"Sure," replied Michael.

"No, thank you." Saavik looked down at the now-lukewarm beverage in her hands. She had actually only accepted this to humor Zachary, and now that she had it, she did not know what to do with it. She certainly did not plan to drink it. One sip had convinced her of that. Perhaps when no one was looking she could pour it out. There was a large plant within reach that looked as if it might actually benefit from such an action.

Next to her, Michael asked, "So, Saavik. Zachary tells me that you're in Starfleet."

"Yes. I am currently assigned to the Marie Curie."

"The Marie Curie? I'm afraid I don't know anything about Starfleet, but that sounds like a medical ship. Are you in the medical field?"

"No, I am not. You are correct that it is a medical ship-our mission is medical research and exploration-but I have no medical experience myself. I am the navigator."

"The navigator? That must be wonderful. What's it like to navigate a ship that size out among the stars?"

She considered his question. How could she explain the satisfaction of a maneuver perfectly executed? The exhilaration of releasing a ship from the restraints of spacedock into open space? There were any number of answers to his question, and the ones that immediately came to mind were subjective and overly emotional.

Finally, she said, "It is a rewarding job."

He smiled warmly, and for some reason she thought that he knew exactly what had gone through her mind before she answered.

Their conversation was interrupted by Zachary, who returned from the kitchen with two bottles and a large bowl of pretzels. Handing a beer to Michael, he sat down heavily on the sofa. "Good. It looks like I got back just in time. Rogers is stepping up to bat."

Saavik returned her attention to the game, or rather to the two men who watched the game as they waited in rapt concentration to see what would happen next.

...

Walking through the streets of the Old Town, Saavik leaned closer to Zachary when he placed his hand on the back of her arm. He was the sort of person Nyota called a 'toucher,' someone who could not curb the impulse to touch other people when engaged in conversation. Nyota had explained that she, herself, was a toucher, and it was difficult for touchers to understand that their body language was not always welcome. It had been a hard lesson for her to learn, she had said, and when Saavik commented on Zachary's tendency to touch, Nyota had explained that he might need some gentle assistance in learning to avoid that inclination.

But Saavik was not certain that she wished for him to stop.

He shifted his hand from her arm to her back, then pushed his hair away from his face before touching her arm again.

"Zachary, if one studied your mannerisms at the moment, one might think that you were nervous."

Michael, who had been walking quietly on the other side of Zachary, said, "He is, Saavik. Don't you know that he's taking you home to meet his parents?"

"Stop it, Michael." Zachary frowned. "You're not helping."

"I do not understand," said Saavik. "I thought we were going to the Andorian restaurant of which you are so fond."

"We are, but I'll admit that maybe I'm a little nervous. These people consider me family. I want them to like you."

Michael shoved his friend's arm playfully. "They'll like her! They'd be crazy if they didn't."

"They _are_ crazy, Michael. You know that."

Michael laughed. "They'll like her anyway. She's a great person, and she makes you happy. Besides, Elder Mother tells you every time she sees you that she wants you to settle down. She'll be thrilled."

Zachary rubbed his forehead and groaned. "I didn't even think about that. Saavik, ignore her if she comments on the size of your hips."

Saavik raised an eyebrow. "Why would she care about the size of my hips?"

Michael leaned across Zachary. "Childbearing."

"I see." Saavik swallowed. "I think that perhaps now _I_ am nervous."

Zachary slipped an arm around her shoulder and whispered, "You'll do great. And your hips are perfect."

She scowled at him, but they had arrived at the restaurant so all she could do was accompany them inside.

...

Elder Mother, scolding her granddaughter until she seated them at the best table in the restaurant, had proceeded to carry first one delicacy and then another from the kitchen all night. Saavik had been somewhat overwhelmed at first, but once she decided to simply accept the preferential treatment, she found the evening enjoyable. She did not remember the last time she had been with such a rowdy group, but it was not objectionable. This restaurant was truly a family affair, and even the customers participated in the festivities as if they were family. And, Saavik reflected, perhaps they were. She, Zachary, and Michael were the only non-Andorians in the place, and even a Vulcan would find it difficult to trace the intricate relationships within an Andorian extended family.

She leaned close to Zachary and spoke over the noise. "Is it like this every time you come here?"

"It's always wild, but tonight is even wilder than usual. You heard Elder Mother mention her grandson's engagement, didn't you? Andorians marry in groups of four, but the engagement generally originates with a pair who invites two others to join them. Well, the family of his 'first chosen' is here, and it's traditional for the two families to try to outdo each other. It'll turn into a big party before the night is out." He grinned. "Of course, that's nothing new. These people will throw a party over anything."

She studied the large table in the center of the restaurant. "I must admit to some surprise over this behavior. There are only two Andorians I have known well in my life, but neither of them was like this. One was a teacher I had as a child, and he was very gentle and serious. Another was briefly my roommate at the Academy, and she was one the most competitive beings I have ever known."

Michael, on the other side of the table, said, "I had the same reaction at first, but I learned that Andorians work hard, fight hard, and party hard. Whatever they do, they do to an extreme."

"They're very passionate about life. It's a terrific philosophy." Zachary paused. "Look. Something's about to happen."

Saavik turned back toward the front of the room and saw Elder Mother dragging a young man out of his chair. Evidently, this was the eldest grandson, because another elderly woman was pushing a young woman in his direction.

"What are they doing?" she asked.

"This is the joining ceremony. The prospective bride and groom pretend to be reluctant, and it's up to the families to convince them to be together." Zachary chuckled as four men came out with ornate stringed instruments. "Here we go. The party's getting ready to start."

The two men began playing a slow tune, and Saavik watched as the two older women performed a stylized dance around the young couple. It was clear that they were mimicking captors, using their hands and bodies to prevent the young people from escaping, but it was also clear that the young couple did not wish to escape.

Gradually the tempo of the music increased, and soon everyone in the room was clapping in rhythm. Not wishing to be rude, Saavik joined them, but soon her heart began to beat faster with the growing intensity of the music. Michael, his body twisted so that he could see the front of the room, turned back and smiled at her, and she knew that her eyes were wide when she met his gaze.

Her attention was drawn away from Michael when she felt Zachary's hand tug her own, and she looked up to see that everyone had started leaping out of their chairs to join the dance.

Shaking her head, she waved him on. He gave her a brief hug and scurried away, and Michael moved into his empty seat.

"I don't blame you for staying put. Zach loves being the center of attention, but I'd rather have a tooth pulled than get up there in front of everyone."

"Given a choice, I believe I would prefer to keep all of my teeth, but fortunately it will not come to that." She hesitated. "Will it?"

He laughed vigorously, and Saavik was struck by the pleasing way his teeth contrasted with his dark skin in the low light.

"No, unless the Andorians have some strange ritual I don't know about. It wouldn't be the first time."

"Once my roommate at the Academy spilled some salt. Instead of neatly cleaning it up, she pinched it between her fingers and threw it over her shoulder without looking. It was very illogical, for it merely compounded the mess she had made. And what if someone had been walking behind her? The salt could have gone in their eyes, and-"

She paused when she saw that he was laughing again.

"What is it?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Saavik, that's a human custom! My grandmother used to do it all the time. Your roommate must have picked it up from someone there on Earth."

"Oh. Well, humans often have incomprehensible behavior, too."

"I won't disagree with that." He glanced up at a cheer from the crowd. "This song is over, but they're just getting warmed up."

Just as he predicted, the musicians began another song. She nodded when a waiter came by to offer her another beverage, then settled back in her seat to watch the dancers.

...

Hours later, Saavik pushed several empty glasses out of the way and rested her elbows on the table. The noise and activity level had long since subsided, with people drifting into smaller groups as the musicians segued into mellower compositions and the lights were dimmed even further. Zachary had returned to the table several times for a quick rest or a drink or to check on her, but she had hardly spoken with him all evening. She did not mind, however, for he seemed to be enjoying himself very much. At the moment, he stood in the front with his arms draped over the shoulders of two other men. She watched, caught by his look of concentration as he attempted to learn the complicated dance.

"That dance is very similar to something I saw in Greece," she said to Michael.

Michael nodded. "I've never been to Greece, but I've seen vids, and I think you're right. The men dance just like that. What did you think of Greece?"

"It was very interesting. We actually went to one of the Greek Islands rather than the mainland, and it was an experience I would definitely repeat. The beach was very nice, and there was an ancient castle from which you could look out over the ocean."

"I can tell by the tone of your voice that you're a kindred spirit. There's no place in the universe like a beach."

"Do you miss living there?"

"Very much. You know, even when we went to medical school, Zach and I found an apartment on the Island and commuted. We just couldn't tear ourselves away."

"I have never had the opportunity to live near a beach, but I would not hesitate to do so. There is something very restful about it."

They both looked up at the sound of Zachary's boisterous laughter to see that he had clumsily managed to learn the dance. Michael smiled and shook his head, then turned back to Saavik.

"Sometimes I lie in bed and try to hear the waves," he said. "I know it's silly because there aren't any waves within light-years of here, but I've heard them all my life and the silence seems unnatural. I got an aquarium, but it just isn't the same."

"In Greece, we used to sit on the beach at night and listen to the waves. Even though the moon was bright, the ocean was very dark until a wave broke, and then it would shimmer in the moonlight."

"Have you ever seen little fish jumping out of the waves at night? They look like jewels."

"Your imagination is better than mine, but once I saw what you describe. There were more fish in the school than I could count or even estimate. Spock said that a bigger fish had probably chased them up close to the beach."

He nodded. "What's even more incredible is when something chases the bigger fish. You can't help but wonder what's out there when the big fish jump."

"Have you ever seen a shark?"

"Oh, yes. Many times. We never worried about them, though. The Coast Guard was good about maintaining the sonic repellers, but the sharks wouldn't have bothered us anyway. They're not nearly as fierce as their reputation would have you believe."

"I have never seen one."

"Maybe someday we, er, Zach can take you to the Island. If you watch long enough, eventually you'll see one. You'll see all sorts of other creatures, too."

She nodded. "I would like that."

He smiled and nodded in reply, but before they could continue their conversation, Zachary flopped down into a chair on the other side of the table.

"Whew!" He picked up a glass and drained it. "That's hard work. I won't need to exercise for a week."

"You have enjoyed yourself," she said. "I am pleased."

He reached across the table and grasped her fingers. "Thanks for being such a good sport, Saavik. I really didn't intend to just bring you here and dump you."

"You did not dump me." She tightened her grip on his hands. "It has been a very interesting evening."

"Here, Zach." Michael stood and motioned toward his empty chair. "I took your seat. I have a busy day tomorrow, so I'm going to say my goodbyes now."

"See you back at home." Zachary sat down beside her. "Want something else to drink, Saavik? I'm thirsty."

"Thank you, Zachary. I would welcome a new beverage."

"Okay. The waiters are busy, so I'll go get it. They don't mind if I help myself."

She nodded and watched him walk toward the beverage station. A moment later, a gust of dry air ruffled her hair, and when she turned toward the front door, she saw Michael wave goodbye. She lifted her hand briefly in response, and then he was gone.

...

Stretched out in bed reading, Uhura glanced up when Spock came into the room.

"Ready for bed?" she asked.

"Yes. You will be pleased to learn that the study is in order."

"Good. Now all that's left is the kitchen."

"I thought that Saavik had taken care of that."

"She put everything away, but I'm waiting until she's gone to rearrange it."

"Ah. I see."

"Speaking of Saavik, I haven't heard her come in yet." She couldn't resist giving him a smug smile. "She must be having a good time."

Sighing softly, he removed his robe and carried it into the closet, and she shook her head fondly before looking back at her book. Poor Spock. He was trying so hard to be tolerant, but it wasn't easy. It probably never was, for fathers and daughters. He'd argue that he wasn't a father and Saavik wasn't his daughter, but that didn't matter. It was still the same. Uhura, herself, would never forget what had happened during her first trip home from university. She'd come in from a date in the wee hours of the morning to find her father sitting patiently on the front porch 'enjoying the stars.' She'd been irritated at the time, especially when her date all but ran back down the sidewalk without kissing her goodnight, but in retrospect it was kind of sweet.

He came back out and climbed into bed beside her, so she put her book on the nightstand and rolled onto her side. Propping her head on her hand, she said, "I think it's really exciting."

"The study?"

"No! Saavik and her whirlwind romance. Do you know that she and Zach have been together every day for the past five days? Sometimes twice a day."

He stretched out on his back. "I am aware of that."

"I just knew that they'd be good together." She moved close and put her hand on his chest. "I met someone while on leave at about that age. Everything is accelerated because you know you're only going to have a short time together. It was so thrilling. I wanted it never to end."

He covered her hand with his own. "What happened?"

"Oh, eventually we drifted apart, but it was fun while it lasted. I remember wondering how I could get to know someone so well that quickly. It just seemed right."

He sighed again, and she had to fight to keep the amusement from her face.

"Personally, I do not understand how you can meet someone and know immediately that it is 'right.'"

Resting her cheek on his shoulder, she looked up at his face. "Spock, what do you think would have happened if we'd met as complete strangers outside of our jobs on the Enterprise? Maybe we would have both been on leave at some exotic location. Are you telling me that you wouldn't have given me a second look?"

He hesitated, and she could tell from the look on his face that he knew there was a right answer to this and a wrong answer to this, and that he needed to figure out which one was the right answer. Smart boy. She smiled innocently while she waited for him to come up with a response.

Finally, he said, "I have no doubt I would have given you a second look. You are too beautiful and intelligent to do otherwise."

Her smile widened. "Oooh, good answer. Okay, so let's say that I'm mountain climbing in the Deltan Alps... Don't give me that look, buster. This is my fantasy, so I'm mountain climbing in the Deltan Alps. The weather is warm, and I've peeled off my clothing until all I'm wearing are jeans and a tight little undershirt. As I come around a bend, I meet you on your way down, and I ask you how much further I have to go until I reach the top."

"Presumably you would already know that, because the Deltan Alps are on the Federation Registry of Scenic Sites and therefore are well-marked for tourists who-"

"Spock." She raised up on her elbows. "Maybe I know, but I like the way you look and I'm trying to get your attention."

"You would do that?" When she didn't respond, he added, "Of course you would. Please continue."

"Anyway, we stop to talk, and I mention that there's a scenic overlook hidden just on the other side of the bushes." Before he could point out that she wouldn't know about it if it were hidden, she added, "Someone told me about it. We go there and sure enough, it's beautiful. We sit on a flat rock and talk for hours, and before we know it, the sun is setting. I'm feeling very daring because I'm on vacation and I can tell that there's a spark between the two of us, so I mention that I'm going to pitch my big, two-person tent here tonight."

This was a pretty good fantasy. She lowered her voice and started rubbing his chest.

"I hold your eyes as I get up, and then I turn my back and slowly walk to a secluded area where no one will ever find us. I hear your footsteps behind me, and I know that you understand what I want. So what now? Remember, we were complete strangers until only a few hours ago, but now we're together and I'm willing and there's not another being within a hundred kilometers."

He paused to consider his answer. "I help you pitch your tent."

"All right. Then what?"

"We build a fire."

"Oh, yes. Then what?"

"Ah... I leave. There is a great deal of time between sunset and nightfall on Delta, so it would not behoove me to stop when I have several hours of travel time remaining."

"What?" She pushed his shoulder. "You go off and leave me all hot and bothered like that?"

"It would not be logical to do otherwise, Nyota. I just met you."

"I can't believe you!" She frowned and flopped onto her back. "You were going to get lucky tonight, too, but now I'm not so sure."

He was silent for so long that she dared a look in his direction.

An eyebrow lifted, he said, "We enter your tent and engage in multiple acts of passionate sexual intercourse until we both fall asleep, exhausted. Is that more to your liking?"

She covered her face and laughed. "You're lying, but it'll do. Come over here and kiss me, stranger."

She could see the smile in his eyes just before he turned off the light and took her in his arms.

...

Much later that night, Saavik sat on a small chair and gazed out her bedroom window at the back yard. T'Kuht had just begun to rise, and the barren landscape was illuminated by an eerie, reddish light. The previous owners of the house had neglected the back yard, probably because they had not understood the maintenance of a sand garden, but Spock and Uhura had worked hard in the coolness of the early mornings to remove the pernicious weeds that sprouted here and there, and to rake out the debris. Earlier today, Saavik had noticed that it looked much better, the aesthetics of the artfully arranged rocks balancing nicely with the calmness of the even sand. A small, hot wind had blown since then, however, and it had left little indentations across the once-smooth surface.

Leaning her chin on her folded hands, she remembered once again how the waves had rippled in the moonlight when she was at the beach in Greece. The light had been blue-white those nights, very different than this subtle crimson glow, but if she exercised her imagination, she could almost believe that she was looking at the waves once again.

She closed her eyes and listened. Could she imagine that she heard the waves, swelling in the ocean and rushing toward the shore, breaking into a million glittery fragments just to claim the sand and slide away? Waves were always the same, anywhere she went, yet waves were always very different, some of them big enough to sweep an unwary swimmer to a place she did not wish to go, some of them small enough that they were hardly even noticeable. They were never unimportant, however, because even the smallest waves could gradually reshape a landscape, pushing and pulling and sliding across the sand until they had left their mark over the passage of time.

Opening her eyes, she raised her eyebrows at her foolishness. Of course she could not hear the waves here on Vulcan, a planet where a wave had not existed for uncounted millennia. She rose from her chair and went to bed.

End chapter 6


	7. Chapter 7

Listening for the Waves, chapter 7

Saavik stepped from the lift and walked down the hall to Zachary's apartment. He had told her to 'drop by' and 'hang out' this afternoon, so she was in the process of dropping by. Dropping by and hanging out were both difficult concepts, but she believed that she was finally beginning to understand. They generally involved beer and chips, and while she did not care for the beer or the chips, she found the casual atmosphere and the impromptu activities agreeable.

She signaled at the door and heard Michael's voice beckon from within. He sounded somewhat agitated, which was unusual because she had never known him to be anything other than calm.

Stepping inside, she said, "Michael? I am here to see Zachary."

"He got called in to work." His voice emanated from the back of the apartment. "He tried to reach you, but you were already on your way. You just missed him. Damn! There goes another one!"

She frowned and followed the sound of his voice. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes. Well, no. Come on in."

She peered around the doorframe to see him standing in the midst of great disarray with his hand in an aquarium.

"What is it?"

"My guppy is having babies, and the other fish are eating them. I'm trying to catch them, but they're too fast."

Stepping over buckets, wadded-up towels, and several rocks, she watched him put another rock on the pile and pick up a little net. Water dripped from his elbow, but he didn't seem to notice. She picked up one of the towels and dried off his elbow, then knelt and started on the floor.

"Do you need any assistance?"

"That would be great, if you don't mind. Help me look for the little buggers."

She put her hands on her knees and studied the tank. He had already removed the large rocks, but there were several plants in the back that seemed to be in his way.

"I will return in a moment," she said.

Trotting to the kitchen, she found a large bowl and filled it with water. She carried it back into Michael's bedroom.

"Will water from the faucet damage your plants?"

"Good idea! As long as it's not too hot or cold, it should be fine. Here..."

He slid to the side, the net still in the tank, and she squeezed in beside him and started pulling out the plants. She tried her best not to get water everywhere, but it was impossible. Soon, her shirt soaked, she began looking for the babies again.

"There!" She pointed.

"Got it." He scooped it up in the net and put it in the bucket by his feet.

"There is another. Oh. No. It was eaten. But there are two more in the corner." Her nose to the glass, she asked, "What are you going to do with the babies? They cannot live in the bucket, can they?"

"I suppose I'll get another aquarium or maybe give them away. You wouldn't happen to have an aquarium, would you?"

"No, I do not." She pointed. "There is one!"

"Thanks. What about your friends?"

"Spock and Nyota? They do not have one, either, but perhaps they would like to purchase one. I think that it would be very enjoyable to have an aquarium."

"They're great until you get into a mess like this."

"It is unfortunate that the baby fish are being eaten, but this is actually very fascinating. Look-the mother fish just had another baby. It started swimming immediately."

"Yes, they pop and drop, and if they don't move fast they're lunch."

He quickly caught the baby that was just born, and she looked up from where she crouched beside the tank to see him watching her.

Grinning, he said, "We're a good team."

"Yes. I suppose that we are."

He smiled a moment longer, and then they both devoted their attention to their task.

...

Throwing his medikit on a table by the door, Zach took in the main living area of his apartment and realized that he heard voices, then smiled when he saw the back of Saavik's dark head out on the balcony. She was sitting in a chair beside Michael with a big glass in her hand, and he realized with a pang how much he had missed her just since last night. She was terrific, really terrific, and he wondered for the hundredth time how he had managed to meet a Vulcan girl who was so different from any other Vulcan he'd ever met.

The balcony door slid open for him. "Well, what do we have here?"

She looked over her shoulder. "Greetings, Zachary."

Wishing that Michael wasn't there so he could kiss her, he contented himself with squeezing her shoulders. "What are you two doing?"

Michael gestured with his glass. "Saavik just helped me rescue eighteen baby guppies. We're sitting out here in the sun to dry out."

"I wondered why you had the sunshield set so low. I thought that you might be trying to roast yourselves." Zach dragged a chair over and plopped down. "And what are you drinking?"

"Margaritas."

Saavik held hers up. "They are actually very good."

"I'll bet the plant likes them, too," said Zach.

She met his eyes wryly, and he grinned in satisfaction. He had learned just two days ago that she'd been pouring beer into the ivy at the end of the sofa, and he'd teased her relentlessly ever since.

Picking up the pitcher, Michael said, "There's just enough for one more."

"Thanks." He accepted the glass and leaned back in his chair. "Perfect. I needed this."

Saavik turned toward him. "Did you have a difficult afternoon at the hospital?"

"Flitter accident. We saved everyone, but it wasn't easy."

She grasped his forearm. "You are a skilled doctor. It must be rewarding to know that you have saved lives."

"It is."

He covered her hand with his own, but he knew better than to leave it there for long. She actually allowed more gestures of affection than he would have expected, but he didn't want to push his luck. He'd save it for later when they were alone.

...

The next evening, Saavik followed the signs through the hospital corridor toward the intensive care unit. She and Zachary had made plans for his night off, but he had been called in again to care for one of his patients. When he apologized, she had assured him that she did not mind. It allowed her to eat supper with Spock and Nyota—something she knew she had done too seldom recently-and also provided her an excuse to come to the hospital and perhaps observe him at work.

She found the empty lounge and had just seated herself when he rushed through the door, rumpled and panting.

"Saavik, hello." He grasped her upper arms and pressed his lips firmly to hers before releasing her. "I'm so sorry, but I can't go tonight. T'Suvor is critical again."

She brushed her hand lightly against his cheek. "I will miss you, but I understand. I am sorry to hear about your patient."

"Yes, me too. I thought that she was out of the woods." He pulled two tickets from his pocket. "Take these. Michael got off five minutes ago, and he'll go with you."

"But Zachary-"

"Please, I'd hate it if you missed the play because of me." He looked up as Michael walked through the door. "See, I already called him, so you can't say no now."

Dignified in his crisp medical uniform, Michael asked, "Hi, Saavik. What's up, Zach?"

Zachary pressed the tickets into Michael's hand. "Here. These are tickets to tonight's Shakespeare in the Park. I have to work. Would you keep Saavik entertained for me?"

Michael hesitantly took the tickets. "Are you sure? Maybe you could swap them."

Zachary shook his head emphatically. "Tonight's the last night for Macbeth, and besides, Saavik is leaving in three days and there won't be another show before then. Go on, enjoy yourselves."

"Three days?" Michael turned toward her. "You're leaving in only three days?"

She nodded.

"Well, I guess." He was obviously still uncertain. "Is this all right with you, Saavik?"

"Of course. Will I see you later, Zachary?"

Zachary had already started backing toward the door. "No, probably not. This is going to be a long night. Just tell me all about the play tomorrow, all right?"

"I will."

He threw one last smile her way and walked out the door, so she turned to Michael.

"You heard the man." Michael waved the tickets at her. "I guess I'll have to keep you entertained tonight. Tough assignment."

She could not deny that she had been disappointed when Zachary told her he could not make it, but she felt her disappointment lift in the face of Michael's cheerful words.

"I will attempt not to increase the difficulty of your task." She paused. "But I cannot make any promises."

"Well, I've always liked a challenge." He laughed and started toward the door. "Give me a minute to change, and I'll be ready to go."

Soon she was alone again, so she sat down to wait.

...

The stars were shining brilliantly by the time they began making their way home. Saavik walked slowly, her hands clasped behind her back, and savored the cooling night breeze. The mild season was almost over, and already the days were growing much warmer. Soon it would be too hot for anyone to sit outside, even in the early evening. Darting a glance toward the man who strolled beside her, she thought he would agree that the cool breeze was agreeable. She could not help but notice the sheen of perspiration on his brow in the amphitheater earlier, but he had not complained. He had actually seemed to enjoy himself.

As had she.

It was unfortunate that Zachary had missed the evening, but she found that it was easy to be with Michael. Zachary was such an exuberant person that life with him was a constant adventure. His intensity rubbed off on her, and she found that she was energized just from being near him. There was none of that with Michael, however. His easy-going nature almost made her forget that he had been a stranger just two short weeks ago. She missed Zachary, but her evening with Michael had been surprisingly welcome.

She looked over at him. "It has been a pleasant evening."

"It sure has. I'll have to thank Zach for suggesting that I go in his place."

"I must also. However, I hope that I did not take you away from Karen."

"Nah. I'm not seeing her anymore. Two dates were enough to figure out that there wasn't any substance behind that pretty face."

"I see. I am sorry."

"I am too, but mostly that I asked her out in the first place." He chuckled and put his hands in his pockets. "You know, that was an interesting production of MacBeth. I could tell that the wardrobe was a real challenge-Tellarites just aren't built for Elizabethan clothing-but they did such a good job with the acting that I forgot about the costumes."

"True. This was not the most unusual Shakespeare I have ever seen, however. Once, on Starbase Eight, a Deltan company put on a production of 'Romeo and Juliet.' The title characters were very convincing as lovers. One might even say that they became carried away by their roles."

He laughed. "I can only imagine."

"There were several families in the audience, and they had to remove their children before the play was over." She looked up to see that they were nearing the house. "This is where Spock and Nyota live."

"Which one?"

"The house with the side porch."

They walked quietly until they had turned up the front walk and stopped in front of the door. Instead of simply thanking him and going inside, however, she was struck by an impulse.

"Would you care to sit down for a while?" she asked. "I find that I am not quite ready to end the evening."

"I'd love to."

They situated themselves on the front step, and she gazed up at the sky.

"The stars are very clear."

"Yes." He draped his arms across his knees. "T'Kuht usually drowns them, but it's rising late this time of year. I love it when I can see them because it reminds me of home. The constellations are all wrong, but that doesn't matter."

She nodded. "When I was a child, I used to study the sky and wonder what was up there. All I knew was that they were very beautiful."

"I know what you mean. One of my earliest memories is of lying on the beach at night beside my father, inventing stories about what was really up there. We used to make up the most outlandish tales. Those are good memories."

"I can tell. What was it like to grow up on a beach?"

"It was the best upbringing anyone could have. Zach and I used to run wild. We'd leave our homes at the crack of dawn, and we'd be out all day long. Looking back, I'm amazed that our parents let us go like that, but it was an incredible freedom. I think that the constant sense of discovery is what led me into medicine."

"It sounds like an idyllic childhood." She could not keep the wonderment from her voice. "You were so carefree."

He frowned slightly. "Of course."

Realizing that he had detected her reaction to the concept of a carefree childhood, she quickly asked, "Did you always know that you wanted to be a doctor?"

He hesitated, still studying her, but she managed to sit very still under his scrutiny. Finally, he said, "Actually, no. To be honest, when I was a kid I used to tell people that I was going to build boats. It wasn't until I was a teenager that I realized there was more to life than hanging around the beach all day."

"I can imagine that it was very difficult to leave the beach, even knowing that boatbuilding was not the most opportune career choice." She laced her fingers across her knees. "The first time I ever went to a beach, I thought that I had been transported to a magical place. The water, the sand, the shells-everything seemed too perfect to be real. I was there with Spock and Nyota, and I remember thinking that I wished we could stay forever."

"Now I'm going to throw your question back at you. Did you always know that you wanted to be in Starfleet?"

"Yes."

He turned toward her, clearly surprised. "Really? Usually that's just an idle question. What made you decide that? You must have been very young when you made up your mind."

She shrugged lightly. "I do not remember making a decision. It simply was, from the moment I heard Spock's first story about Starfleet."

"Okay, now I'm really confused. I had assumed that you met Spock through Starfleet, but you must have known him sooner than that."

"I met Spock when I was nine. He was my teacher."

"You seem very close. He must have been one heck of a teacher."

"That is an understatement. I owe everything to him. Everything." She tilted her face up to the sky again. "I had no one when he found me. My entire life was nothing more than a fight for survival, but he took me away from that hopeless existence. He gave me a home, an education, and security. He gave me a future. He-"

She abruptly clamped her lips together and looked down at the ground. What was she doing? She had never told anyone about her past, not her roommates at the Academy, not her closest shipmates, not even Zachary... yet she had said this without even realizing what she was doing.

Standing quickly, she babbled, "It is late. No doubt you must work tomorrow, and I should be going."

He grasped her arm to stop her. "Please, Saavik. You don't need to go. If this isn't something you want to talk about, that's fine. We can talk about something else."

She regarded him for a long moment, but finally nodded and sat back down. "Forgive me. It is merely that I am not usually so talkative, and I do not know what prompted me to say so much. I am sorry, Michael. It has nothing to do with you."

"I know." He smiled reassuringly. "Let's talk about the years after you met him. Would that be all right, or do you want to change the subject altogether?"

She pushed her hair behind her ears as she considered his question. "I will talk about that."

"Okay, good. So you went to the beach with Spock and Nyota? How old were you?"

"Eleven standard years. That was before they were married. I was rather persistent that they take me on a vacation. I had the childish notion that if they saw what it was like to be a family, they would decide that it was logical to marry. I was obsessed with the thought of being a family, just the three of us."

She blinked and turned her face away, unable to believe that she had spoken so freely again. Why could she not simply keep her mouth shut?

He did not appear to notice her consternation. "But eventually they did marry, right? And you're with them, aren't you? Maybe your childish notion wasn't so illogical after all."

She was silent for a long moment, but finally she decided that if she had said this much, she might as well close the topic. "I have always been convinced that they should have listened to me. It took them too many years to reach the conclusion I knew to be true all along."

He grinned. "So, you lived with Spock, and you knew Nyota."

She nodded. "I lived with him for a year on Dantria, and that is when I met Nyota and his other friends. After that I lived with a family on Gamma Cygnus because he had to return to the Enterprise. When he took a position teaching at Starfleet Academy, we were together again."

"Dantria? I don't believe I've heard of that place."

"It is an underdeveloped planet with a slow pace of life. We lived in a small cottage far from any settlements, and everyday life was my classroom." Her eyes grew unfocused as she remembered. "From the moment I awoke to the moment I fell asleep, we explored. We wandered in the woods and the meadows. We worked at his computer. We read any book that we could find. I did not appreciate it enough at the time, but our life was very good."

"What did you think about Gamma Cygnus?"

"At first, I did not like it. I wanted to be with Spock, and I fear that I made everyone's life rather difficult. He placed me with an old friend, and this woman had two daughters close to my age. I was able to make the transition. I leapt at the opportunity when it was time for me to leave Gamma Cygnus, but it was also hard to go."

She paused, her brows drawn as she stared at the ground and remembered.

"Through those years, my old existence seemed very far away and unreal, but perversely it was also much too near. It was difficult for me to adapt to any sort of change. I always felt as if stability was precarious, something that could vanish at any time and plunge me back into what I had known before." She closed her eyes and whispered, "Except then it would be worse than ever, because I would know what I was missing."

"Saavik, I don't want to push, but your childhood wasn't so bad, was it?"

She jerked up sharply. "You do not know what it was like... before. Before I met Spock."

He shifted so that he could look directly into her eyes. "No, I don't, but it sounds like you had some idyllic moments, just like me. Didn't you?"

She swallowed and could not tear her gaze away from his.

He edged closer. "Didn't you? Weren't there some good memories to make up for the bad?"

"Michael..."

"Please, I want to believe that your good memories help make up for the bad in your past."

Shaking her head, she slid away from him. "Michael, no."

He gently touched her cheek. "What is it, Saavik? What is it that hurts you so much?"

She stood and turned toward the door. "It is late, and I really... I really must..."

"Saavik! I'm sorry. Please don't leave."

She pressed her hand against the entry panel. He reached for her arm, but she dodged his grasp and slipped through the door one step ahead of him. She could hear him as the door slid shut, and even after the door had sealed itself, she could still hear his voice as he continued to call her name. Finally, though, he fell silent, and when she heard his footsteps retreat down the walk, she closed her eyes and slumped against the door. What had she been thinking? She had told him too much as it was, but like so many humans, he wanted more. He asked too many questions, he wanted too many answers, he insisted and insisted...

Finally she opened her eyes and took a deep breath, then headed back to her room before Spock or Nyota could come out and find her.

End chapter 7


	8. Chapter 8

Listening for the Waves, chapter 8

The room dim except for the lamp on his desk, Michael sat in his office and reviewed the day's charts. It was fortunate that everyone he saw today had suffered from nothing more than the most routine complaints-a few sinus infections, an earache or two, more sore throats and sniffles than he could count-because he couldn't seem to keep his mind on his work. It was going to take him all night at this rate.

Maybe that was just as well.

Zach had said that Saavik was coming over to watch the playoffs again tonight. Michael had never felt like an intruder before, but everything was different now. He'd really blown it with her last night. Why had he thought that she'd confide in him? True, the conversation kept leading back to her childhood, but he had known good and well that she hadn't wanted to talk about it. She'd made that very clear. But yet...

She'd seemed so vulnerable. Lost. Alone. She'd always been nothing but confident and self-assured around him, but suddenly he'd seen the wounded child behind the facade. Well, not a facade. She really was confident and self-assured, he had no doubt of that. But there was something else there, too, that he'd never seen before. He'd never met Spock, but he felt a tremendous respect for the man. Spock had obviously turned her life around, taking a hurt child and helping her grow into a well-adjusted adult. What could have been so horrible that he had needed to do that?

Taking a deep breath, Michael looked back at the screen again and made a few cursory notes on the current file, yet another allergy case. Sometimes it seemed that all he did was deal with allergies. On Earth, he could chalk it up to the allergy season, but here on Vulcan it was allergy season year round for many of the beings from off-world. There were only a handful of plants that could survive in the desert, and over the eons they'd developed the most persistent pollen he'd ever seen. His mentor at the Charleston Med Center had warned him what he was getting into when he agreed to be an eyes, ears, nose, and throat doc on Vulcan, and although it had never bothered him much before, tonight he could hardly stand it.

Maybe he _should_ go home.

He'd go back and grab a beer, and find his spot on the sofa right beside her like always. She'd sit back and pretend to watch the game, but he'd know that she was really watching the two humans. She thought that she was being very discreet about it, but he knew what she was doing. That was because he'd watched her as she watched them. Her large brown eyes full of curious intelligence, the reactions would flit across her face so subtly that you'd miss them if you didn't look closely, just like last night when they'd sat on the steps and she'd gazed up at the stars.

Deciding that he might as well quit wasting his time here since he obviously wasn't going to get anything done, he told the computer to save his files and shut down. He'd work on them first thing tomorrow morning.

...

"Here you go."

Saavik accepted the tall glass from Zachary as he reseated himself beside her. Taking a sip, she frowned slightly. This was refreshing, but not as good as the margarita she had consumed two days ago. She could not identify what was different about it, however, so the only conclusion she could draw was that her appreciation was linked to something less tangible. Perhaps it was because she had been seated outside in the heat before. Michael had asked her the first time she had come here if she wished for them to raise the interior temperature, and she had said no, but now it seemed rather chilly.

She glanced toward the door. Where was Michael? Maybe he was working late, in which case she would not have to face him today. That would be good, would it not? Or perhaps she should see him so that it would be behind her. Why had he been so intrusive, anyway? And why had she allowed it to upset her?

It was all so confusing.

She did not know whether she had run away because she was offended by his questions... or because she was afraid she might blurt it all out to him. It would have been easy to tell him about her Romulan ancestry, her feral existence, the killing and fighting and starvation and... It would have been so easy to just tell him. She had carried her secrets for many years, and what had never been a burden before now seemed suddenly unbearable. All night long, she had imagined his reaction if she had just told him. Would he have understood? Would he have turned away? Would he-

She almost dropped her glass when Zachary leapt to his feet.

"No!" he shouted. "Are you blind?"

Blinking, she said, "I assume that you are not addressing me."

"Sorry." He sat down again. "I was talking to the ump. Did you see that lousy call?"

"Ah." She focused on the game and tried to form a reasonable response. Fortunately, the broadcaster was showing a replay. "That should not have been a strike?"

"There's no way that was a strike!"

He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, evidently willing the umpire to make the correct call, but when the umpire called another strike, he stood up in disgust.

"I can't watch. Tell me when it's over."

He headed toward the kitchen, but instead of looking at the tri-vee, she felt her eyes drift toward the door again. Michael was definitely working late. Maybe he was detained by an emergency and she would not see him at all tonight-

She had to quickly juggle her drink again when the door slid open to reveal Michael, who met her eyes immediately. She and he both froze, and she could see that he was just as uneasy as she was. He did not look away, and neither did she.

Finally, he approached the sofa. "I'm sorry, Saavik," he said softly.

She averted her eyes. How could she respond to this? It was so typical of a human to trespass in some way and assume that an apology would undo the misstep. Yet he had not meant ill last night, just as he did not mean ill now, so how could she disapprove of a gesture that was offered in good intent? She had heard humans say 'it is all right' in these situations, or even offer their own apology in return, but if she did either of those, he might be encouraged to repeat his behavior. Why did he have to come home, anyway? It would all have been much easier if he had simply stayed at the hospital and-

Zachary returned, and as he greeted his friend and they both sat down on the sofa, she knew that the moment for a reply had passed. It was just as well. She would certainly have chosen the wrong approach. She was very aware of Michael's presence beside her, and she stiffened in case she might shift her leg and accidentally brush up against him.

Perhaps she could talk Zachary into leaving the apartment later. She kept her eyes firmly directed toward the tri-vee and hoped that the game would not require extra innings.

...

Much later that night, Saavik knelt on the floor. She had not meditated in six days, and while she had never experienced the need to meditate as regularly as Spock did, six days suddenly seemed much too long. She was unfocused and agitated. In all of the excitement of meeting Zachary, she had allowed her calm center to slip away. It was time to find it again.

She closed her eyes. Instead of steepling her hands, however, she brought her fingertips to her lips. Zachary had kissed her tonight, kissed her with longing while they discussed her imminent departure. His arms were strong, and as they stood in the shadows in front of this house and she turned toward the door, he pulled her to him and whispered, "Don't leave me quite yet."

_Please don't leave._

Her eyes flew open. It wasn't Zachary's voice she had just heard. Instead, it was one that was much smoother and much deeper. One that she had heard saying those very words last night, in the very same location by the front door. She had been fleeing, however, pulling away instead of drawing near.

But... her heart was pounding now in a way it had not pounded earlier tonight. She held her breath and felt a warmth deep in her belly when she heard that voice again.

_I'm sorry, Saavik._

Brown eyes, not green, held her own. The warm body that had been so close to her on the sofa this afternoon was close to her again. Leaner arms reached for her, and when she tilted her head back, fuller, softer lips pressed against-

She stood abruptly and paced across the room. What was she doing? She was involved with Zachary, and she was thinking of his roommate? This was exceedingly illogical. Zachary was a good person and he cared about her very much, and at any rate she had no way of knowing that Michael's lips were softer. They just looked that way.

Unable to suppress a grunt of frustration, she dropped to her knees again, and she scowled when she studied the floor. This was not a good place to meditate. If she were back on board the Curie, she would have her own meditation mat and her own firepot and her own room, and she would not have these problems. She would be on her way back there in two days, and life would not be so complicated then.

Two days.

Her shoulders slumped. She would be on her way back in two days. Zachary was already talking about when they would see each other again, so even in two days her problems would not go away.

Closing her eyes with determination, she banished all thoughts of anything but meditation.

End chapter 8


	9. Chapter 9

Listening for the Waves, chapter 9

Opening the front door, Uhura motioned their visitor in. "Hi, Zach. How are you doing?"

"Great! It's game number four and Rogers is hot."

"I'm afraid I'm not paying much attention this year. When does the game start?"

"In about twenty minutes. I'm here to get Saavik, and we're going to watch it at my place."

"Hang on, and I'll let her know you're-"

"I am here, Nyota."

Turning to see that Saavik was right behind her, Uhura noticed yet again the fatigue that was evident on the younger woman's face. Uhura had assumed yesterday that it was due to Saavik's busy schedule, for she knew as well as anyone that you could go indefinitely without enough sleep when you were involved in a new romance. Today, though, she wasn't so sure. There was happy tired and unhappy tired, and this sure didn't look like happy tired.

Uhura smiled reassuringly. "Have fun, then. We'll see you later."

She returned to the kitchen, where she resumed chopping the fruit for tonight's salad. She didn't mean to eavesdrop, but no matter how loud she chopped, she could still hear the conversation in the next room.

"Hi, Saavik," said Zach. There was a moment's silence, and Uhura smiled despite her concern when she pictured the two of them greeting each other with a light kiss. "Are you ready?"

"Zachary, would you mind if we changed our plans tonight?"

"Well, I really don't want to miss the game."

"I would like to watch the game, too, but is there someplace else we could go?"

"There's a little bar down in the Old Town. It's not much, but they always have the tri-vee tuned to sports. I'll give Michael a call and let him know where to meet us."

"I would prefer that you didn't."

Uhura stopped chopping at the long silence. Finally, Zach said, "He'll be alone to watch the game."

"I know, but..." Saavik's voice sounded uncertain. "I will be leaving tomorrow afternoon, and I thought that it would be desirable if the two of us spent some time alone."

"Well, okay. I'll call him when we get there just to let him know not to expect us."

"Thank you, Zachary."

A moment later, the sound of the front door told Uhura that she was all alone. She popped a piece of fruit into her mouth, and she was still standing there with the knife in her hand when Spock came in the back door.

"I believe that I have located the source of the imbalance in the flitter. It should not be difficult to repair."

"Good. Saavik just left with Zach."

"That is not a surprise."

"Have you noticed that she's acting odd?"

He tilted his head, suddenly alert. "In what way?"

"Oh, I don't know. Distracted. Restless. Almost agitated."

"I have not observed that. Now that you bring it to my attention, however, I realize that I have hardly spoken with her for several days. Do you think that something is wrong?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's because she's leaving so soon. It's hard to say goodbye."

"That is possible. As you have pointed out on several occasions, she and Zachary seem to have developed a liking for one another."

She snorted. "That's an understatement if I've ever heard one."

He took a piece of fruit from the board. "I will be with the flitter if you need me."

"Okay."

She saw her own concern reflected in his expression as he left. Maybe she'd talk to Saavik later and find out what was going on. She and Zach were so good together that it would be terrible if something as minor as a little distance came between them.

Smiling at her unintentional pun, she shook her head and turned back to the cutting board.

...

Saavik could not think of anything to say as Zachary walked her to the front door after their date. It was late-this time tomorrow, she would already be gone. She truly wished to enjoy herself until then, but the harder she tried, the more difficult it became. Her entire visit had been so good. Why could the pleasant sensations of just a few days ago not last? What she was feeling tonight was not at all pleasant: guilt. It nibbled at the edges of her mind, demanding more and more attention until she could spare attention for nothing else.

They stopped at the front door, and when she turned around, she could not meet Zachary's eyes.

"Hey, what is it?" He placed his hand under her chin and gently turned her face up to his. "Don't be sad."

She scowled. Sad? Young children were sad. Words that described what she was really feeling ran through her mind...

_I care greatly for you, but I also have inappropriate feelings for your best friend._

...but she knew that she could never be so cruel to him. He was good to her, so good to her, and when she finally looked up, she felt a constriction in her chest at the sincerity of his gaze. Perhaps she was merely deceiving herself about Michael. Michael was also a good person, but this was Zachary. Zachary was the person for whom she cared.

He moved close, and when he kissed her, she closed her eyes and leaned into the kiss. Yes, she wanted this. She wanted Zachary. She wanted-

Unbidden, a memory leapt into her mind, the memory of how she had felt last night when she imagined Michael's arms, Michael's eyes, Michael's voice. The waves he described seemed to tug at her now, ghosts that whispered around her body and left her off-balance on the shifting ground. She broke the kiss without moving out of Zachary's embrace, hanging her head with her temple against his cheek.

"I am sorry, Zachary. I must go now," she whispered.

"Okay." He smoothed her hair and released her. "I'll see you tomorrow after I get off work, right?"

She nodded, then started toward the door. Just as she reached for the access panel, however, she turned back, "And Zachary..."

She did not know what she wished to say. He stood quietly as he waited for her answer.

Finally, she said, "Good night."

"Good night."

He smiled quizzically, and she felt her chest tighten again at the familiarity of his expression. All she could do was nod, however, and go into the house.

...

Yawning, Zach dragged through the door early the next morning to find that the apartment was dark. That wasn't surprising-Michael's door was shut, and Zach knew that his friend wouldn't be up for another hour or two. Hopefully he would be asleep long before then. He wanted to catch a few hours rest, and then go spend the day with Saavik. She'd acted so strange last night, but he knew that he was a little out of kilter, too. He hadn't expected to fall so hard for her, but there you had it. And tonight she'd be gone.

Starting toward his room, he paused when he passed the desk where he and Michael often left each other hastily scribbled notes. He still felt bad about not watching the game with Michael last night, but maybe he could make it up to him. It was hard to get together, what with one of them working days and the other working nights, but he was off tomorrow so maybe they could find something to do. Besides, he knew that he'd be looking for a way to keep his mind off Saavik, and what better way than to hang out with his best friend?

He picked up a notepad, but it only had two pages left and he'd written on them already. Discarding it, he looked for another notepad, but there wasn't one sitting out, or at least not that he could see. He began rummaging through the pile of papers and books that covered the desktop.

Well. He grinned and picked up the padd he'd been looking for last week, then tossed it on a nearby table where he could find it later. Ah. There. A blank piece of paper. He picked it up, but his grin faded when he saw what was underneath it. He squinted and looked closer.

Michael was a notorious doodler, covering anything in sight with marginally recognizable pictures of everything in the universe. Zach had watched him do it a thousand times, a look of concentration on his face as the conscious part of his brain worked on a problem and the unconscious part told him to pick up a pen and start drawing on whatever was near. Zach had learned not to leave important documents lying around, ever since the time in college he'd had to turn in an assignment with the shapely curves of Michael's current girlfriend adorning the margin.

And now, it looked like Michael had drawn something-or someone-else who was on his mind.

He sunk slowly into the desk chair without taking his eyes away from the drawing of Saavik's face. She was very recognizable. Michael's artistic skills were improving. He had captured her large brown eyes with their sharp, questioning intelligence, her well-defined cheekbones, her ears, her lips, her mass of curly brown hair... She was actually more beautiful in this drawing than she was in real life, taking into account the talent-or lack thereof-of the artist.

He lowered the paper to his lap, staring sightlessly across the room as the events of the last few days ran through his mind. Saavik and Michael had spent a lot of time together. Zach had actually been happy that they'd hit it off so well.

But... about the time they'd deepened their friendship, Saavik had started acting different. She'd become increasingly distant, and he'd just assumed that she was shifting out of vacation mode. Last night, though, she'd wanted the two of them not to be with Michael, and then she'd pulled away regretfully when he kissed her. And Michael had been working later and later each day. As a matter of fact, the only day he hadn't was the day Zach had twisted his arm to take Saavik to the play. Was Michael avoiding his old friend? Did he have something to hide?

He compressed his lips into a thin line and made himself comfortable for a wait. Michael would be up soon enough, and they'd settle this then.

...

Rubbing his eyes, Michael stumbled out of bed and headed for the kitchen. Right now, he needed coffee more than he needed a shower. He hadn't slept much last night, but that seemed to be turning into a routine state of affairs.

"Good morning, Michael."

He pulled his hands away from his face and turned to see his friend sitting in the chair behind the desk. "Hey, Zach. What are you doing up? I thought I heard you come in hours ago."

Zach nodded and looked down at his hands, and Michael felt the fog in his brain vanish. Moving close, he asked, "What happened? What's wrong?"

Zach held out a piece of paper. "What's this?"

Michael leaned over the desk, and his eyes widened when he saw what Zach had in his hands. "Uh, that's, er, that's nothing, Zach. You should just forget about it."

Zach shook his head. "Look how beautiful she is. Only a person who had really studied her could catch the way the corner of her mouth turns up, or the little cowlick at her hairline that keeps her hair from lying smooth." He pointed emphatically. "There. It's exactly right."

Michael looked away. "I'm observant. You know that."

"What happened the other night? When you went to the play?"

"Nothing! We had a good time, we talked, and I walked her home."

"Nothing?" Zach came to his feet and moved around the desk. "She's been upset about something ever since then. I didn't catch it at first, but I've had a long time to think this morning, and I see that something has been wrong."

Michael didn't answer.

Zach was quiet for a long moment. "Have you fallen in love with her, Michael?"

Michael shook his head but still didn't reply.

"You have." Zach's voice was bleak. "It's true."

Michael closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, Zach. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't want to care about her like this, but I can't help it."

"Does she feel the same way about you?"

"No." Michael grabbed his friend's arm. "No! She doesn't know anything. I've tried hard to only treat her like a friend. She cares about you, and I would never want to damage that."

Zach pushed books out of the way so he could sit on the corner of the desk. Rubbing his face, he said, "I know. I'm sorry."

"Me, too."

Zach inhaled deeply, then studied the drawing again. "I wonder why she's been acting the way she has. She, er, well, she didn't want to watch the game with you last night. I'm sorry. After I saw the drawing, I assumed that it was because you two had something going on, but-"

"I know why she didn't want to be near me." A burning in his stomach told Michael that the last thing he needed right now was coffee. "I was really pushy, and I tried to make her tell me about her past. I knew that it was painful for her, but I thought if we just talked, I could help somehow. I'm sorry. It was stupid."

"Her past?"

Michael looked up. "You don't know?"

"No."

"Something happened to her before Spock took her in."

"Spock took her in? I thought that he was just a friend, I don't know, because they're both Vulcans or something."

"Zach." Michael looked at his friend, unable to believe that he didn't know even this most basic thing about his girlfriend. "He raised her. She's been with him for years. He helped her get past this terrible thing. I shouldn't even be telling you this. You need to ask her for yourself, and she can decide how much she wants to reveal."

"I will."

Michael turned back toward his room. "I have to take a shower. It'll be okay, Zach. She's leaving in a matter of hours, and I'm sure I'll be over her by the time I see her again. Just talk to her."

He didn't wait for Zach's response. He had to hurry-he hadn't lied when he said he'd be late for work.

But he knew he had when he said he'd get over Saavik.

End chapter 9


	10. Chapter 10

Listening for the Waves, chapter 10

Unable to make herself sit still, Saavik rose from Spock's computer and paced out to the kitchen. She hadn't wanted to eat any breakfast this morning, but now her stomach had started rumbling almost continuously. She opened the stasis unit and dug around until she found a fruit salad, and then she picked up a fork and started eating out of the container.

"Hungry?"

She whirled. "Nyota. Hello. There was not much here, so I thought, ah, I thought I'd-"

Nyota grinned and flapped her hand. "That's fine. It'll save us cleaning another bowl."

"Would you like some?"

"No, thanks. I think I'll have some yogurt. Can I get some for you?"

"Zachary will be here any moment. I probably do not have time." Saavik looked down and studied the container as if there were something very interesting in it. She had heard the strained quality in her voice, and no doubt Nyota had heard it, too.

Just as expected, Nyota said, "It's going to be hard to say goodbye to him, isn't it? You two have grown so close."

Saavik nodded without looking up. Nyota was correct. It was going to be very difficult. But she was certain that Nyota did not know why.

Reaching into the stasis unit, Nyota continued. "It was always tough when Spock and I said goodbye to each other, but these things work out."

Even though Saavik appreciated the intent, she could not resist pointing out the inaccuracy of that statement. "They did not work out for you. You and Spock terminated your relationship when you went to the Lexington."

"Yes, well, maybe so. The long distance part wasn't easy, but there were other factors." She pointed at Saavik with a spoon. "You and Zach seem to have an honest, open relationship. If you're just up-front with each other about your feelings, you can make it work."

Saavik ate the last bite of fruit and turned away, ostensibly to put the container in the recycler. Honest and open? Hardly. Nyota could not be more wrong. She could not tell Nyota about her problems, though. Nyota meant well, but she would certainly attempt to talk Saavik out of what she had decided to do. The decision had been hard enough to make as it was. She did not need to try to convince someone else that she was doing the right thing when she was not convinced, herself.

She faced Nyota again and feigned confidence. "Thank you, Nyota. I will keep that in mind."

"Good." Nyota smiled warmly. "Well, you had better go get ready. Like you said, he'll be here any time."

Realizing that a few moments ago Nyota had inadvertently given her an excuse for what she planned to tell Zachary, Saavik nodded and walked away.

...

Zach headed up the walk toward Saavik's door. What a morning. Thank heavens he'd always been able to sleep whenever his head hit the pillow, because his mind was certainly whirling now.

He signaled his presence at the door, and a moment later she answered.

"Hi," he said. "What do you say we go get some lunch, and then maybe-"

"Zachary, we need to talk."

He hesitated. Those were never words you wanted to hear.

"Er, sure. Where do you want to go?"

She glanced around the room as if she hadn't even considered that, so he said, "How about the porch? It's nice and private."

"Very well."

They were silent as they crossed the yard and entered the porch through a door on the side. He sat down, and she moved a chair so that she could sit directly across from him.

When she didn't speak immediately, he prompted, "You had something you wanted to tell me?"

"Yes." She licked her lips. "You are a good person, Zachary. I care for you very much. After a great deal of difficult analysis, however, I have come to the conclusion that I cannot see you anymore."

He fell back against the cushions. He'd figured that maybe she was going to tell him her big secret. Or maybe he'd have to reassure her that Michael wouldn't pressure her anymore and try to patch things up between the two of them. This he hadn't expected.

Pushing both hands through his hair, he stammered, "What?"

"I am sorry, Zachary. I cannot see you anymore."

He stood and walked over to the side of the porch, then faced her with his hands on his hips. "Why, Saavik? We're great together."

"In three point eight hours, I will be on a shuttle headed toward Starbase Eleven. When I arrive at Starbase Eleven, I will board another shuttle which will take me to the Curie. It is a long trip." She stood and lifted her chin defiantly. "It is very difficult to maintain a relationship when the two parties are not in close proximity to one another, so I have decided that we would both be better served if we ended this now."

He turned away. They'd had so much fun, but now she said that it was over. It just didn't make sense. She'd known from the very start that they'd have to deal with distance eventually, and it hadn't stopped her then. Now, though, she said that she couldn't be troubled by a long-distance relationship.

Then again...

Her words had sounded stilted, almost rehearsed. Narrowing his eyes, he replayed them in his head, and he came to a conclusion. She wasn't telling the truth.

Gambling that he was correct, he crossed the space between them and stopped a meter away. "That was a pretty speech, Saavik. You almost had me convinced. Now I want you to tell me what you really think."

She almost maintained her poker face, but he could tell that he had hit home.

"I do not know what you mean," she said.

"You're hiding something from me. Is it because of your past? Is that why we can't stay together?"

She drew her brows together. "What do you know of my past?"

"Something happened before Spock took you in, something so terrible you won't talk about it."

She pressed her lips together, then said, "Michael told you that."

"Yes, he did." He took a step closer. "But he did it because he cares about you. He was concerned, and he blurted it out to me."

"He cares? About me?"

He paused. Michael had said that she had no idea how he felt about her, but this reaction didn't quite fit.

"Why wouldn't he?" he asked.

Amazingly, she actually wrung her hands together. She had never been anything but utterly composed around him before, but she didn't try to hide her distress now.

"He was only trying to help me, and I was very unkind to him. I rushed inside, leaving him standing on the front step, and even though he apologized and asked me to return, I ignored him. He tried to apologize again when I saw him yesterday, and still I could not bring myself to even acknowledge him. Yet despite the way I treated him, he still cares enough to tell you this?"

He could only stand stupidly as her words registered, the anguish in her voice so clear it practically knocked him down. She sounded just like...

Just like Michael had this morning. Zach had never seen his friend so tormented, and suddenly he knew. He knew.

Michael, the quiet one, was always willing to let his attention-loving friend stand in the spotlight. Michael had deferred to Zach more times than Zach could count, and Zach had always been more than happy to oblige, never giving his friend's needs a second thought when his own needs seemed so much more fun. Fun Zach. That's even what the girls had always called him. Fun Zach.

Back in med school, he'd fallen in love with a girl who still crossed his dreams sometimes. He'd asked her to marry him, but one day she had stood before him and given him back his ring, the tears streaming down her cheeks as she told him that the laughter wasn't enough. He had been devastated as he held the ring in his hand and watched her walk away, but he hadn't learned a thing. He had ignored her needs just like he'd ignored Michael's, in his own need to please himself.

And now, here stood Saavik. She was a complicated woman. He thought he might even love her, but did he know her? How could you love someone you didn't know? But Michael knew her. Michael understood her. Zachary knew that he, himself, was a bad one for falling in love much too quickly, almost invariably to learn that he wasn't really so much in love after all, but Michael hardly ever fell for anyone. Michael, cautious in life and cautious in love, had fallen in love with Saavik. And...

She had fallen in love with him. She might not know it yet, but he could see it in her eyes and hear it in her voice.

Not stopping to think, he grasped her by the upper arms and looked unwaveringly into her eyes.

"Go to him, Saavik."

"What... what do you mean? To whom should I go?"

"Michael. You still have time. Go to him at the hospital and tell him how you feel about him."

"I did not intend to feel this way," she said mournfully.

"I know."

"I care for you, too, Zachary."

"And I care for you, but it's not the same. You and Michael connect in a way that you and I never will."

She gazed into his eyes, but then shook her head and backed away. "No. I am leaving today. I have hurt you, and I do not wish to hurt you any more. It is best that I simply go and never see either of you again."

"I won't deny that I'm hurt, but it would be agony to think that I'm coming between two good people who so obviously belong together. Please, go to him. It's the best thing for all three of us. Can't you see?"

"No, Zachary."

"Saavik-"

"No! It is all too complicated, and the only way to simplify everything again is for me to leave. That is final." She softened. "Thank you, but goodbye."

He held her eyes, but finally all he could do was nod. "I'll never forget you," he said.

"Nor I, you."

"I think you're making a big mistake."

She shook her head forlornly. "I am not."

He kissed her on the forehead and walked away. He turned when he reached the door to take one last look at her, but she had already gone inside.

...

Holding his tricorder up to the front windows, Spock ensured that all dimensions were correctly notated and saved the data.

"I still do not understand why you do not simply order from here," he said to Nyota. "You can simulate our windows just as easily as they can in the store."

She inspected a small pillow from the sofa, then discarded it in favor of a cushion from the seat. "I know, but I just can't stand to pick out a fabric without touching it. You know me, old touchy feely Nyota."

"Indeed. Although I would not agree with the 'old' part," he added hastily. He handed the tricorder to her. "Personally I see nothing wrong with the window coverings that are already here. They are perfectly functional. Why do you insist on changing them?"

She raised an eyebrow at him in reply, so he sighed. "Very well. Enjoy yourself."

"Thanks."

She started toward the door, but they both turned when they heard footsteps.

"Saavik?" Nyota tried to tuck the unwieldy cushion under her arm. "I thought that I heard Zach. Aren't you two going out?"

Her head down, Saavik walked rapidly through the room. "No, we are not. I told Zachary that I could no longer see him."

"What?" exclaimed Nyota. "You broke it off?"

Saavik did not look up. "Yes. I must pack now."

"But why?" Nyota extended a hand in Saavik's direction. "Saavik, wait."

Saavik vanished into the hallway without further comment, and an instant later Spock heard her door close. He stared at the empty hallway for a long moment, then turned to Nyota to see that she was equally puzzled.

"I can't believe this," she said softly. "I just can't believe this."

"I am shocked, as well." He shook his head slowly. "I had thought that everything was going very smoothly between them."

"This morning she was concerned about having a long-distance romance, but I reassured her. She knew that you and I had problems, but they weren't just from being apart and I told her that. I thought that she was fine with everything." She let the cushion drop to the floor. "Oh, Spock. She looked so unhappy, and this is all my fault."

"Your fault? You just said that you reassured her. Why would you be responsible for the termination of their relationship?"

"That's not what I mean. You were right. I meddled and meddled. You said that I shouldn't, but I pushed them together. I kept telling Saavik what a terrific guy he was, and I did everything I could to keep them interested in each other. I should have seen that she just wasn't ready, but I kept pushing. And now she's hurt."

Resting his hand on her shoulder, he said, "Do not blame yourself, Nyota. You were merely attempting to guide her into something you thought would be good for her. What are you going to do now?"

She took a heavy breath. "Nothing. I've interfered too much as it is, and this is something she needs to muddle through for herself. Maybe I shouldn't go to the store, though. I'll cancel my appointment with the decorator."

He picked up the cushion and handed it to her. "This is something you have been anticipating for several days. Saavik does not leave for another three point four hours. You will be back well before then."

"I suppose you're right."

She hesitated, so he gently steered her toward the door.

"Go, Nyota. I am certain that she needs to be alone at the moment."

Her shoulders slumped, and she took a deep breath and nodded. "I'll be back as quickly as possible."

He watched her walk out the door. Soon he heard the flitter leave, and he nodded in satisfaction at the sound of the engine. He had definitely corrected the imbalance. He headed toward the kitchen to make himself some tea. Perhaps Saavik would like some, too.

Saavik.

As he put the water on to heat, he pictured the quiet pain on her features just moments before. Romantic entanglements had always been difficult for him, too. It was very hard to take that first step toward an acknowledgment of mutual attraction. It was harder still to agree to an ongoing involvement. However, now that he considered it, she had evidently experienced little problem with either of those. Why, then, was she suddenly so unwilling to continue the relationship on a long-distance basis?

He thought again of his own struggle to maintain his relationship with Nyota so many years ago. As Nyota had said, he and she had encountered great difficulty when she left the Enterprise. Things were very good between them at first, but gradually he had found it easier to avoid her than to be with her. She had claimed at the time that it was because he did not try hard enough, and while that was certainly correct, it was not because he had not cared about her. Among other things, it was because there had been something he did not want to tell her.

He had harbored a secret, the secret of an adult Vulcan male's sexual cycle. He had cared so deeply for her that the thought of losing her had filled him with an almost paralyzing fear, and it was this fear that had prevented him from being honest. And the longer he had kept it to himself, the more daunting it had become to reveal. Ironically, in the end it had been his lack of honesty rather than his sharing of the secret that had caused him to lose her. He had even experienced a sense of relief despite his pain when he had allowed her to go, because that had meant he would never have to tell her just how much he had kept from her.

And... he was not the only person in this house who knew what it was like to hold a dark secret.

He removed the water from the heat and left the kitchen.

End chapter 10


	11. Chapter 11

Listening for the Waves, chapter 11

Taking a tunic from the closet, Saavik folded it and carried it toward her open suitcase. Instead of putting it in the suitcase, however, she sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the carpet. Nyota had said that she did not like the color scheme of this house, and the longer Saavik studied her surroundings, the more she tended to agree. It did not matter, however. In a few short hours she would be gone, and by the time she returned, everything would be different.

Well, perhaps not everything. She suspected that she would still experience this hollow sensation in her chest.

She knew without a doubt that she had done the only thing she could do, so why did it cause actual physical pain? She would never have the pleasure of Zachary's cheerful company again. She would never see Michael's gentle face or look into his kind eyes, or know his easy presence. She would never hear his beautiful voice, all-encompassing like night when it falls on the harsh Vulcan desert. She would never stroll through the Old Town without remembering these days, she would never see a baseball game without thinking of their enthusiastic shouts, she would never-

A light rap on her door caused her to jump to her feet. Hastily pretending to refold the tunic, she said, "Come."

It opened to reveal Spock, who stood tentatively in the hallway. "Hello, Saavikam. May I enter?"

"Of course."

She walked to the closet to retrieve another garment, and when she turned back, she saw that he was sitting on the side of the bed. Neither of them spoke as she folded the garment and placed it in the suitcase.

"I was in the process of preparing some tea, and I thought that you might like some."

"Thank you. That would be agreeable."

He nodded but made no move to leave. She cast a glance at him from the corner of her eye, but he continued to sit quietly, apparently watching her pack. She returned to the closet.

She gathered her shoes and carried them to the suitcase. When she began matching them, she realized that she was missing one. She returned to the closet, but there were no more shoes on the floor, so she began looking around the room.

"Are you missing something, Saavikam?"

"Yes. A shoe."

He stood, and together they searched the room. She was beginning to feel some embarrassment. She had tried her best to remain tidy during her visit, but somehow the shoe had managed to elude her.

"Here it is."

She turned to see Spock on his hands and knees, reaching under the bed to retrieve the shoe. Accepting it hastily, she watched as he brushed lint from his clothing.

"Thank you, Spock. I am sorry that you had to get dirty."

He reseated himself on the bed. "It was nothing," he said with humor in his voice. "After all, it is not the first time I have done such a thing."

She nodded, but she could not bring herself to match his tone. Humor was difficult even at the best of times, and she certainly did not feel up to the attempt now.

He moved closer to the end of the bed and patted the area beside him. "Sit, Saavikam."

"I have much to do."

"Sit down," he repeated firmly.

Since it was clearly more than just a polite request, she sat next to him and clasped her hands between her knees. She did not speak, for she knew that she was in for a lecture of some sort.

"It is interesting," he said, "the unexpected twists and turns life can take."

She looked over at him, surprised to learn that this was not a lecture after all. "What do you mean?"

"One plans one's life on the assumption that the logical path is the path to follow. I have found, though, that such an attempt is useful only for the exercise of the planning itself, for things never work out as planned."

"It sounds as if you are advocating a reactive lifestyle rather than a proactive, and that is exceedingly inefficient."

"I am advocating nothing. I am merely observing."

She scowled. "I do not understand, then."

"Take my own life, for example," he said casually. "I had planned to attend the Vulcan Science Academy and marry T'Pring. I would then either join my father in the diplomatic corps or I would find a position in research at the Vulcan Science Academy as my grandfather had done. I would live on Vulcan and raise Vulcan children. It was all to be very logical. Unfortunately, things did not work out as I had planned."

She could not help but feel somewhat wounded by that statement, and she did not bother to keep it from her voice. "You regret that you joined Starfleet, met Nyota, and found me?"

He met her eyes. "Not for a moment."

"Then I am even more confused than I was before."

"I quarreled with my father. That was unfortunate, and certainly improper for a boy of my age. My reaction was to apply to Starfleet Academy."

"But did that not then work out for the better?"

"Indeed it did. But then, T'Pring issued the challenge and our union was dissolved. That was unfortunate, for it left me without a mate. My reaction was to abandon any thought of taking a Vulcan wife."

"But did that not also work out for the better?"

"Absolutely. I met Nyota, and although we were nothing more than friends for many years, we eventually realized that we were destined to share our lives. And in the interim I found a young, abandoned girl who was nothing like the proper Vulcan children I had once envisioned myself raising."

She allowed the corner of her mouth to turn up. "And that certainly worked out for the better."

"Very much so."

"So, if I am to draw a lesson from this, it is that events that seem unfortunate or unexpected at the time may in the long term cause your life to take a turn for the better."

"Correct. You will probably not know it when it happens, however. It is only with the perspective of time that you can look back and see where those serendipitous branches lay."

She had been so caught up in their discussion that she had forgotten her own plight, but suddenly it fell onto her shoulders again like a leaden weight.

Searching his face, she said, "But is it not also true that those unexpected events do not always work out? Sometimes one must force one's life to go back to the way it was before."

"Very true, Saavikam. That is exactly what happened when Nyota told me that we were 'through,' many years ago."

"She terminated the relationship? I always assumed that it was you."

"No, although it might as well have been me."

She sighed heavily. "Now I am confused again. I wish that you would speak plainly."

He paused, and when he continued, his voice was very soft. "You see, Saavikam, I could not be honest with her. I believe that I do not need to spell it out for you, but there is much a Vulcan male cannot discuss easily. In the end I found it easier to let her go than to be honest with her."

She looked away abruptly. How had he read her so clearly?

He continued. "It is illogical to dismiss an opportunity before it has even become an opportunity, Saavikam."

Curling her hands into fists, she said, "I do not need anyone. I will be fine if I never find a mate."

"Indeed you will. I always thought that, myself. I am very grateful that I changed my mind."

She stood and walked away from the bed, her back to him so that he could not see her face. Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine what type of life he would have had without Nyota, and... she could not. They were so right for one another. So right, yet it had almost not happened. The chain of events that had finally brought them together was fragile, and it would have remained broken forever had he not decided to mend it with his honesty.

Her eyes still closed, she fought to keep her voice steady. "How could any man ever care for me? I am half Romulan, Spock. I am the product of a forced union. I was uncivilized for the first nine years of my life, no better than an animal, and it was a struggle to become fit to live in normal society. Even still, although I try to be Vulcan, I am subject to anger and unpredictable emotions. I am not the person everyone thinks I am, and I will have to strive all my life to be the person I want to be."

She heard soft footsteps approach. "One who does not strive, stagnates." His voice was right behind her. "Change is a natural part of evolution. I know this, perhaps more than anyone."

"But you are Vulcan, despite your blood. I am different."

"You are you, Saavikam, and that is exactly why I feel the way I do about you."

Turning at his unexpected words, she looked into his face. "Really, Spock?"

"Really, Saavikam. And if you choose the right mate, he will also accept you for who you are."

She felt her eyes grow wide. "Are you saying that I made a mistake?"

"Only you can know for certain, but yes, my analysis is that you acted hastily without considering all parts of the equation."

"Do you truly think that I should tell him the truth about my past?"

"There is a rather hackneyed old Terran adage: 'The truth will set you free.'" He clasped his hands behind his back. "Yes. I do truly think that you should tell him the truth about your past."

She bit her lip as she gazed past his shoulder, but finally she nodded with determination. "You are right, Spock! You are right. I cannot let fear prevent me from exploring all possibilities. I was concerned that Zachary would be hurt by this, but he said that he would be all right. I did not believe him. I see now, however, that he really meant it. He even encouraged me to do what he thought was best for everyone."

Spock frowned, "Ah..."

"Thank you, Spock." She started moving toward the door. "Thank you! I must go find Michael and tell him everything."

She darted through the bedroom door and ran out of the house. The flitter was gone, but she would hurry to the Old Town and catch the shuttle to the hospital.

...

Hearing the flitter return, Spock met Nyota at the door.

"Greetings, Nyota. Did you accomplish your task?"

"Yes. I found something that'll be perfect." She lowered her voice. "Have you talked to Saavik?"

"Actually, yes, I have."

"How's she doing?"

"I believe I helped her understand that there are certain risks in life worth taking. She is now on her way to see Michael."

Nyota had been smiling with delight at his statement, but the smile quickly faded from her face.

"Who the hell is Michael?"

He sighed. "I have no idea."

...

Finally spotting the sign that said "EENT Clinic," Saavik rushed through the door and stopped before the receptionist's desk.

A young Vulcan woman looked up from her computer. "May I help you?"

"I am here to see Dr. Watkins. My name is Saavik."

Calling up the schedule, the woman shook her head. "I am sorry, but you do not have an appointment."

"You are correct, but I believe that he will wish to see me." At the woman's skeptical expression, she added, "It is a personal matter."

Clearly disapproving of personal matters, the woman looked at the computer again, and Saavik clamped her lips together so she would not say something she would regret. Did the woman think that there would be an entry for 'personal matters' on Michael's schedule? Illogical. Finally, the woman pointed at a door.

"Dr. Watkins is with a patient at the moment, but if you walk down that hallway and enter the fifth door on the left, you can wait in his office until he is available. I will inform him that you are here."

Saavik hesitated, but the woman had already lost all respect for her so she decided to 'go for broke,' as Nyota would say.

Leaning close, she said, "I would prefer that you do not mention my name."

The woman's eyebrow climbed toward her hairline. "Would you prefer that I not tell him anything at all?"

Saavik ignored the sarcasm in the woman's voice. "Actually, if there is a reasonable chance that he will go to his office soon, yes, I would prefer he not know I am here."

"I see. This is a surprise." The woman talked as if she had a bad taste in her mouth, but she looked back at the calendar. "He has blocked out the next half hour, presumably for his lunch. If you have no qualms about interrupting his noon meal, you may wait unannounced."

"I am certain he will not mind."

"As you wish."

The woman returned to her work without another word, so Saavik hurried down the hallway. Her heart pounded in her side, and her knees felt increasingly weak as she counted each door. One, two, three... four... Five. She stood before a small nameplate reading 'Michael Watkins, M.D.' then slipped inside the office before the urge to turn around and leave became irresistible.

So here she was. She looked all around, amazed to see so much of Michael's personality in the room. It was not an exceedingly large space, but he had filled it-neatly, unlike the apartment-with reminders of his home on Earth. Large prints of beach scenes adorned the walls, and on the bookshelves behind the wooden desk were several rows of old medical texts intermingled with books about the ocean and the beach. There, next to Gray's Anatomy, was Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea. And there, bolstered by a huge seashell, was an ancient edition of The Prince of Tides.

Moving to his desk, she picked up a large glass paperweight and looked closer at what appeared to be beautiful blue and yellow fish swimming inside. They were also made of glass, but from a distance they had looked real, as if they were swimming in brilliantly clear water.

The door opened suddenly, and an instant later she heard the paperweight land on the carpet with a dull thud. She scooped it up quickly and returned it to the desk, but her hands were so unsteady that she could not prevent a thump. She held it so it would not roll away, then finally made herself look up. She was not even sure if it was Michael at the door.

It was.

He stood very still, an expression of disbelief on his face. She could not move, either, nor could she talk-her chest was so tight she could scarcely breathe, much less vocalize. Finally, she made herself take a step forward and speak.

"Hello, Michael."

He came into the room, and the door slid shut behind him. "Saavik, I, uh, didn't expect to see you. I talked to Zach, and he... he said that you broke it off with him, and that you didn't intend to see him... or either of us... ever again."

Taking another small step in his direction, she wound her fingers together and asked, "Did he tell you what else we discussed?"

"Yes." His voice was hoarse, so soft that a human would not have been able to hear it. "He told you that I'm falling in love with you. Is that why you broke up with him?"

She ignored his question. "What else did he tell you?"

"Nothing. He said that it wasn't up to him to tell me the rest." He swallowed. "But now you're here. What is it that he couldn't tell me?"

"I did not break up with him because of your feelings for me. I broke up because of my feelings for you. I care very much for you, Michael."

A huge smile spread across his face, but an instant later it was replaced by an expression of horror. "Oh, God. Zach..."

"...said that I should come to you and tell you how I feel."

"He was okay with this? I would never want to hurt him."

"Neither would I, but he said that..." She paused. "He said that we belong together. Do you think that he is right?"

He smiled again, and this time his smile didn't fade. He crossed the room quickly and cupped her face in his hands.

"Yes," he said. "Oh, yes. I do."

As she gazed up at him, she thought that her heart would surely leap out of her side. His face was more beautiful than anything she had ever seen, and she found it difficult to accept that the warmth, joy, and affection radiating from him were for her, only her.

Of course, he did not understand what she truly was.

Perhaps she could remain silent about her past. He thought that she was a polished Vulcan woman, an officer in Starfleet and a person of background. As she looked up at his trusting face, however, she knew that she could no longer keep this to herself. She brushed her hand briefly against his, then pulled away.

"Michael, before you make up your mind about me, there is something you must know."

A shadow crossed his features, and although it pained her to know that she had caused it, she continued.

"I am not Vulcan, as I have led you to believe. I am half Romulan."

He blinked. "That's it? That's your big secret?"

Surprised by his reaction, she hesitated. "That is part of it."

His shoulders sagged in relief. Grinning, he said, "Saavik, I don't care if you're half mermaid. All that matters to me is that you are you."

"Truly?" She looked up at him, afraid to accept that he meant it. Could it be a cruel trick? Was he teasing her, as the children used to tease her in school? "I was alone on a hostile planet, Michael, and I lived the first nine years of my life like an animal."

"That doesn't change anything." He moved close and gripped her shoulders. "I don't take this lightly, Saavik. I know that you harbor a lot of pain, and I can tell that there's much more to the story than this. But we have all the time in the universe, and we'll talk about every detail. I promise."

"Michael." She put her hand on his cheek. "We do not have all the time in the universe. I am already close to missing my flight, and I must leave you now."

His grin widened. "I'm not talking about today or tomorrow, Saavik. I'm talking about next month and next year, and maybe even the year after that. And who knows? Maybe forever."

At that, he swept her into his arms, and as she closed her eyes and surrendered to the kiss, she realized that this was exactly how she had imagined it. His arms, his body, his breath against her cheek-it was all exactly right. He knew who she was, and while there was still much to tell him, the worst was behind her.

Spock's old adage was correct. She had never felt so free in her life.

End story

The next story in the series is Bright Shining as the Sun.


End file.
